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 Italy and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 The Velvet Underground to the rock 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Faraquet,
Absolute Body Control,
Eve St. Jones,
Franke,
KRS-One,
T.S.O.L.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Arcadia,
Bootsy Collins,
Bob Dylan,
Carl Craig,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soft Cell,
China Crisis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Theoretical Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mummies,
Archie Shepp,
Pagans,
Lower 48,
Radiohead,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Zeros,
Scientists,
Black Bananas,
H. Thieme,
June of 44,
FM Einheit,
The Red Krayola,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Desert Stars,
Peter & Gordon,
The Angels of Light,
Roxy Music,
48th St. Collective,
Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Happenings,
K-Klass,
E-Dancer,
Faust,
The Associates,
The Tremeloes,
One Last Wish,
EPMD,
Moby Grape,
Gong,
the Slits,
Harmonia,
Peter and Kerry,
Echospace,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oblivians,
Jandek,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.