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 Thailand and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Michael McDonald 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 Cheater Slicks to the grime 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers,
Rakim,
China Crisis,
The Blackbyrds,
The Human League,
Animal Collective,
World's Most,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott Heron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Zapp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
Quando Quango,
Frankie Knuckles,
JFA,
Intrusion,
Boz Scaggs,
the Soft Cell,
Y Pants,
Eden Ahbez,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Faraquet,
Aswad,
Buzzcocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thee Headcoats,
The Stooges,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wasted Youth,
Gong,
Minutemen,
the Normal,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arthur Verocai,
Swell Maps,
The Seeds,
Shoche,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Magma,
Tim Buckley,
Heaven 17,
Silicon Teens,
Maleditus Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moby Grape,
Man Eating Sloth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Reagan Youth,
ABC,
Susan Cadogan,
MC5,
Shuggie Otis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Schoolly D,
Roxy Music,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.