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 Vietnam and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The New Christs to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
The J.B.'s,
Trumans Water,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Colin Newman,
Flipper,
Delta 5,
OOIOO,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scan 7,
Chrome,
Electric Prunes,
Quando Quango,
Brothers Johnson,
John Holt,
Au Pairs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gong,
8 Eyed Spy,
June of 44,
The Moleskins,
Bush Tetras,
Alice Coltrane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Christie,
cv313,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
In Retrospect,
These Immortal Souls,
Judy Mowatt,
Dave Gahan,
Eli Mardock,
Tom Boy,
Theoretical Girls,
Harry Pussy,
kango's stein massive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Foxx,
Barbara Tucker,
The Kinks,
Oblivians,
Skarface,
The Gun Club,
Minor Threat,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultravox,
ABC,
Fatback Band,
a-ha,
Donny Hathaway,
The Motions,
Urselle,
Suburban Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalann,
The Evens,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Don Cherry,
K-Klass,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.