Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Burkina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Dennis Brown to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Evens. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
The Martian,
Dark Day,
Jacob Miller,
Pagans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sight & Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Cluster,
Ultra Naté,
Livin' Joy,
Essential Logic,
Porter Ricks,
Barbara Tucker,
Pulsallama,
The Slits,
The Music Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Germs,
Boredoms,
Technova,
Carl Craig,
Maleditus Sound,
The Raincoats,
Newcleus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
Heaven 17,
The Cure,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Velvet Underground,
Theoretical Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Archie Shepp,
Arcadia,
Skriet,
Ice-T,
The Fire Engines,
Pylon,
Excepter,
Sun Ra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mission of Burma,
Interpol,
Erasure,
cv313,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Wells,
John Lydon,
Dawn Penn,
Black Moon,
Country Teasers,
Prince Buster,
Wasted Youth,
Black Flag,
Cameo,
Desert Stars,
Pierre Henry,
Second Layer,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nirvana,
Ronnie Foster,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.