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 New Zealand and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rapeman 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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
Depeche Mode,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Angry Samoans,
Davy DMX,
Gichy Dan,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare,
Fatback Band,
Masters at Work,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
This Heat,
Clear Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Royal Trux,
Aswad,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ituana,
Bobby Womack,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sex Pistols,
John Cale,
Franke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Golliwogs,
Can,
The Divine Comedy,
Leonard Cohen,
Sister Nancy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Organ,
Hoover,
Index,
The Evens,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Kinks,
Rod Modell,
Little Man,
Jeff Mills,
Agitation Free,
The Sonics,
Minor Threat,
The Martian,
Deepchord,
Drexciya,
Young Marble Giants,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tim Buckley,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Steve Hackett,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Spoonie Gee,
E-Dancer,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.