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 Sri Lanka and from Manila.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 FM Einheit to the jazz 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson 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?
Laurel Aitken,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mark Hollis,
Scion,
Aswad,
Livin' Joy,
David Axelrod,
Sister Nancy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Liliput,
Glenn Branca,
Graham Central Station,
Nico,
The Mummies,
Yazoo,
Eden Ahbez,
Quando Quango,
Tommy Roe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dorothy Ashby,
kango's stein massive,
Zapp,
the Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
MDC,
Ohio Players,
Mad Mike,
Danielle Patucci,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rufus Thomas,
Cymande,
Visage,
Anakelly,
B.T. Express,
Crash Course in Science,
Minor Threat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Average White Band,
The Fire Engines,
Amazonics,
John Coltrane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harmonia,
The Blues Magoos,
The Motions,
Amon Düül II,
Josef K,
Ronan,
Sun Ra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Saints,
Wasted Youth,
Smog,
the Bar-Kays,
Tom Boy,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.