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 Dominica and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Von Mondo to the electroclash 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Blossom Toes,
Scratch Acid,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fear,
Arab on Radar,
Minor Threat,
The American Breed,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
EPMD,
Maurizio,
Scion,
John Coltrane,
The Buckinghams,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gladiators,
Television Personalities,
Main Source,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Christie,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gories,
The Kinks,
Nils Olav,
Stetsasonic,
Barbara Tucker,
Goldenarms,
Mantronix,
The Names,
Rapeman,
The Searchers,
The Vogues,
Sam Rivers,
Deadbeat,
X-101,
Dark Day,
The J.B.'s,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Order,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deakin,
Jandek,
Masters at Work,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Severed Heads,
Nirvana,
Jerry's Kids,
Babytalk,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mo-Dettes,
Josef K,
Slave,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Technova,
Cluster,
Pagans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quadrant,
China Crisis,
John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.