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 Estonia and from Johannesburg.
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 Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dead Boys to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Sister Nancy,
Tubeway Army,
Tommy Roe,
Sugar Minott,
Y Pants,
Banda Bassotti,
Pagans,
The Dirtbombs,
Can,
Dark Day,
John Foxx,
OOIOO,
Theoretical Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Christie,
The Selecter,
The Residents,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Urselle,
Freddie Wadling,
Dead Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Delta 5,
Rekid,
Minor Threat,
Kas Product,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Isaac Hayes,
Moby Grape,
Brick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Matthew Bourne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fortunes,
Black Bananas,
Cameo,
The Misunderstood,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Livin' Joy,
The Seeds,
Soulsonic Force,
cv313,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Anakelly,
D'Angelo,
Blossom Toes,
The Pretty Things,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dennis Brown,
Scion,
The Cowsills,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Soft Cell,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.