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 Seoul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba 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 Swans 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Detroit Cobras,
Depeche Mode,
Los Fastidios,
The Smiths,
Altered Images,
Harry Pussy,
Motorama,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
Ohio Players,
Prince Buster,
La Düsseldorf,
Henry Cow,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Starr,
F. McDonald,
Yaz,
Black Pus,
Pole,
Brand Nubian,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Khruangbin,
Kurtis Blow,
Camouflage,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nation of Ulysses,
Susan Cadogan,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
X-101,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Litter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Blues Magoos,
Funky Four + One,
The Blackbyrds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mars,
Make Up,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soft Cell,
Grey Daturas,
Scratch Acid,
Nirvana,
Technova,
New Age Steppers,
Swell Maps,
Monolake,
Fugazi,
The Seeds,
Joyce Sims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deepchord,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.