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 Brunei and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Popol Vuh to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Cymande,
The Cure,
Toni Rubio,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fortunes,
Peter and Kerry,
Sonny Sharrock,
OOIOO,
Johnny Osbourne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Popol Vuh,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Bowie,
John Coltrane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
cv313,
The Neon Judgement,
The Tremeloes,
Reagan Youth,
Todd Terry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Circle Jerks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dennis Brown,
The Knickerbockers,
Fad Gadget,
X-102,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stereo Dub,
The Fuzztones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brass Construction,
The Grass Roots,
Banda Bassotti,
Deepchord,
Arthur Verocai,
Underground Resistance,
Minny Pops,
Unrelated Segments,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
David McCallum,
Lindisfarne,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
the Bar-Kays,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nirvana,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sonics,
Schoolly D,
Guru Guru,
Japan,
T. Rex,
Rekid,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.