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 Hungary and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the jazz 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Henry Cow,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Golliwogs,
Gabor Szabo,
Fluxion,
Joe Finger,
The Doors,
The Cure,
Davy DMX,
10cc,
Swell Maps,
Visage,
Minor Threat,
Suburban Knight,
Kerrie Biddell,
a-ha,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
E-Dancer,
The Offenders,
Index,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ossler,
Mad Mike,
Bush Tetras,
The Slits,
Desert Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Angels of Light,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
These Immortal Souls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Television Personalities,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rites of Spring,
Pulsallama,
Grandmaster Flash,
Warsaw,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Drexciya,
Mars,
Gang of Four,
The Cowsills,
Matthew Bourne,
A Certain Ratio,
Franke,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Arab on Radar,
Magma,
Jeff Mills,
The Remains,
Delta 5,
Eli Mardock,
Aloha Tigers,
Das Ding,
Masters at Work,
The Young Rascals,
Procol Harum,
Hashim,
Eden Ahbez,
John Holt,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.