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 Mali and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the dance 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wings,
Toni Rubio,
Nils Olav,
The Gun Club,
B.T. Express,
Tommy Roe,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra,
Laurel Aitken,
Warren Ellis,
Slave,
Skaos,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Beau Brummels,
The Red Krayola,
The New Christs,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
Dual Sessions,
ABC,
Flash Fearless,
Masters at Work,
Accadde A,
The Gladiators,
Alice Coltrane,
Animal Collective,
The Young Rascals,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dirtbombs,
LL Cool J,
The Motions,
Shuggie Otis,
Blancmange,
The Doobie Brothers,
Symarip,
The Dead C,
Brass Construction,
Scientists,
The Black Dice,
Lightning Bolt,
Joe Finger,
The Barracudas,
Prince Buster,
Chris & Cosey,
Urselle,
Sarah Menescal,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pere Ubu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Porter Ricks,
Pantaleimon,
The Mummies,
Con Funk Shun,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang of Four,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.