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 Colombia and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Vladislav Delay to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Dark Day,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mandrill,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harry Pussy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minor Threat,
Public Enemy,
Hashim,
The Last Poets,
The J.B.'s,
Accadde A,
Minnie Riperton,
The Misunderstood,
Masters at Work,
Danielle Patucci,
Porter Ricks,
Cal Tjader,
Barry Ungar,
Radiohead,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bill Near,
Animal Collective,
Reagan Youth,
Severed Heads,
Banda Bassotti,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fugs,
Underground Resistance,
the Bar-Kays,
The Real Kids,
The Angels of Light,
John Coltrane,
X-Ray Spex,
Minny Pops,
Lalann,
Massinfluence,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kayak,
Mantronix,
Pagans,
John Holt,
Ludus,
Neu!,
Mark Hollis,
Slave,
Mars,
Technova,
the Germs,
The Vogues,
10cc,
The Raincoats,
The Selecter,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Hill,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.