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 Micronesia and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nik Kershaw to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
The Tremeloes,
Babytalk,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
R.M.O.,
Tomorrow,
Youth Brigade,
The Techniques,
Suicide,
Jesper Dahlback,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Liliput,
Aloha Tigers,
Young Marble Giants,
Dark Day,
Oneida,
Au Pairs,
Mars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Little Man,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Anakelly,
Delta 5,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Wells,
Danielle Patucci,
Malaria!,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
Bang On A Can,
Quantec,
Nils Olav,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Byron Stingily,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rites of Spring,
Lucky Dragons,
The Trojans,
Ponytail,
the Bar-Kays,
JFA,
Althea and Donna,
Kerri Chandler,
John Coltrane,
OOIOO,
Scan 7,
Connie Case,
Frankie Knuckles,
DNA,
Idris Muhammad,
Warsaw,
The Black Dice,
The Searchers,
Morten Harket,
Ken Boothe,
Peter and Kerry,
Rekid,
Gerry Rafferty,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.