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 Papua New Guinea and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Whodini to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Franke,
Morten Harket,
The Seeds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
Moby Grape,
Gang Gang Dance,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
Joensuu 1685,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Groovy Waters,
Banda Bassotti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Pretty Things,
Thee Headcoats,
Blake Baxter,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agitation Free,
Darondo,
Terry Callier,
John Cale,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scott Walker,
Joe Smooth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ken Boothe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rotary Connection,
Thompson Twins,
The Birthday Party,
Barry Ungar,
Bob Dylan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Warren Ellis,
Minnie Riperton,
The Toasters,
K-Klass,
New York Dolls,
Maleditus Sound,
Cluster,
Gong,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
E-Dancer,
Suburban Knight,
Byron Stingily,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Drexciya,
New Age Steppers,
Half Japanese,
Aaron Thompson,
Buzzcocks,
Mantronix,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.