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 Haiti and from Glasgow.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brass Construction to the punk 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
This Heat,
The Seeds,
Black Sheep,
Nik Kershaw,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sparks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Holt,
DJ Sneak,
Amon Düül II,
Cameo,
EPMD,
Bizarre Inc.,
F. McDonald,
Outsiders,
Japan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chris Corsano,
Ohio Players,
Roy Ayers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultimate Spinach,
Section 25,
Blossom Toes,
Tears for Fears,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Surgeon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stetsasonic,
The Star Department,
The Searchers,
Fad Gadget,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ludus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun City Girls,
Symarip,
Guru Guru,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Agent Orange,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joensuu 1685,
Kerrie Biddell,
Vladislav Delay,
The Techniques,
The Motions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gang of Four,
Swell Maps,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Urselle,
Rites of Spring,
Chris & Cosey,
Hardrive,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.