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 Chad and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jawbox to the rock 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Aloha Tigers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Connie Case,
Livin' Joy,
Fela Kuti,
Matthew Bourne,
Flash Fearless,
Tomorrow,
Accadde A,
Funkadelic,
Hashim,
Fat Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Sherman,
Radio Birdman,
Quando Quango,
Cheater Slicks,
Scientists,
Swans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Public Image Ltd.,
Franke,
Yaz,
The Velvet Underground,
Chris & Cosey,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Techniques,
Bobby Womack,
Organ,
Tres Demented,
the Normal,
The Standells,
Deepchord,
Erykah Badu,
the Germs,
Stereo Dub,
Soft Machine,
Toni Rubio,
Japan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bang On A Can,
Sun Ra,
Mission of Burma,
Darondo,
the Swans,
Deakin,
Idris Muhammad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronnie Foster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Country Teasers,
The Music Machine,
Desert Stars,
Amon Düül,
Black Flag,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.