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 Morocco and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
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 sitar 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 Hot Snakes to the rock 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Ronan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Malaria!,
Tears for Fears,
The Detroit Cobras,
Popol Vuh,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camouflage,
Au Pairs,
The Remains,
Drexciya,
Monolake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Index,
Godley & Creme,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Reed,
Black Flag,
Mo-Dettes,
Underground Resistance,
Mark Hollis,
Rosa Yemen,
Qualms,
Moss Icon,
Ituana,
The J.B.'s,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Unwound,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Wells,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang Gang Dance,
Severed Heads,
10cc,
The Gap Band,
D'Angelo,
Judy Mowatt,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Five Americans,
Leonard Cohen,
kango's stein massive,
The Cowsills,
Anthony Braxton,
Theoretical Girls,
Excepter,
Radiohead,
John Lydon,
Idris Muhammad,
Goldenarms,
Barry Ungar,
Smog,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Talk Talk,
Max Romeo,
The Motions,
The Cure,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Holt,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.