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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Barclay James Harvest to the grunge 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Pussy Galore,
June of 44,
Trumans Water,
Faust,
Gang Green,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Monochrome Set,
Bill Near,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harry Pussy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neu!,
The Young Rascals,
The Residents,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Angry Samoans,
Hot Snakes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skarface,
Franke,
Blake Baxter,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
Bad Manners,
The Fall,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Holt,
Albert Ayler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David Bowie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Simply Red,
Ultravox,
Pantaleimon,
Wings,
Ohio Players,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stiv Bators,
Hasil Adkins,
The Real Kids,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Terry,
Symarip,
The Cure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television Personalities,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Remains,
The Durutti Column,
Mission of Burma,
Unrelated Segments,
Lyres,
Pierre Henry,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.