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 Mauritania and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Porter Ricks to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Graham Central Station,
Little Man,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kerri Chandler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Altered Images,
Neu!,
June of 44,
The Doors,
Organ,
Shuggie Otis,
Andrew Hill,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sam Rivers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thee Headcoats,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
Grey Daturas,
ABBA,
Amazonics,
the Germs,
Tim Buckley,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
Massinfluence,
The Gap Band,
H. Thieme,
Guru Guru,
a-ha,
Mandrill,
Aloha Tigers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Max Romeo,
Eric Dolphy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nils Olav,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
The Associates,
Oblivians,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heaven 17,
Schoolly D,
Dawn Penn,
Panda Bear,
Pierre Henry,
Index,
Masters at Work,
Niagra,
The Red Krayola,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fad Gadget,
Aural Exciters,
Chris Corsano,
Deepchord,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.