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 Kosovo and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Neon Judgement to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Davy DMX,
Ludus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Porter Ricks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Offenders,
Pierre Henry,
Surgeon,
MDC,
Fela Kuti,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flamin' Groovies,
Average White Band,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
Sister Nancy,
Laurel Aitken,
Thee Headcoats,
The Trojans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Can,
Gong,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Fear,
Talk Talk,
The Doors,
Electric Prunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Colin Newman,
The Invisible,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare,
The American Breed,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cowsills,
Neu!,
The Blackbyrds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jimmy McGriff,
La Düsseldorf,
Bush Tetras,
Heaven 17,
The Barracudas,
The Seeds,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
Unwound,
Robert Görl,
The Golliwogs,
Susan Cadogan,
Alice Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.