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 Niger and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
This Heat,
Scion,
Tommy Roe,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Althea and Donna,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pagans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Al Stewart,
Robert Görl,
Cluster,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MDC,
Bush Tetras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Make Up,
The Index,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Walker Brothers,
Faraquet,
Delta 5,
Flash Fearless,
Crash Course in Science,
Khruangbin,
Aural Exciters,
The Fugs,
David McCallum,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Sherman,
Joe Smooth,
Tres Demented,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flipper,
Ronan,
Massinfluence,
Royal Trux,
Pussy Galore,
New Age Steppers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joe Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Theoretical Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Motions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moby Grape,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Half Japanese,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fortunes,
The Invisible,
the Association,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cybotron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.