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 Australia and from Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Max Romeo to the grunge 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Electric Prunes,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dead C,
Bronski Beat,
Graham Central Station,
Trumans Water,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Hood,
The Black Dice,
Altered Images,
Radiohead,
Pussy Galore,
X-101,
Marine Girls,
U.S. Maple,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eddi Front,
Accadde A,
Audionom,
Delta 5,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fatback Band,
The Mojo Men,
the Human League,
Scan 7,
Mr. Review,
Motorama,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Five Americans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Names,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Sheep,
Unwound,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Lynne,
Isaac Hayes,
Moby Grape,
Drexciya,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric Copeland,
Eurythmics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Sherman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stereo Dub,
Fugazi,
Metal Thangz,
Quadrant,
Albert Ayler,
The Beau Brummels,
Barry Ungar,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Reuben Wilson,
Marmalade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.