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 East Timor and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Frankie Knuckles to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angry Samoans,
John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Arthur Verocai,
Junior Murvin,
H. Thieme,
Ronan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang Starr,
Lyres,
Bob Dylan,
LL Cool J,
Rosa Yemen,
The Detroit Cobras,
KRS-One,
The Grass Roots,
Hasil Adkins,
Icehouse,
Robert Görl,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Howard Jones,
Al Stewart,
New York Dolls,
Ultravox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Max Romeo,
Neu!,
Charles Mingus,
Monolake,
The Doors,
Excepter,
Jawbox,
Gang Green,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harpers Bizarre,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
PIL,
Main Source,
Trumans Water,
Skaos,
Donald Byrd,
Joe Finger,
Blossom Toes,
Altered Images,
Mark Hollis,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed,
the Sonics,
Deadbeat,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moebius,
Bootsy Collins,
Scratch Acid,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Roy Ayers,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.