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 Cuba and from Madrid.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pretty Things to the disco 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Whodini,
Tomorrow,
Carl Craig,
The Cramps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Liliput,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
Con Funk Shun,
Letta Mbulu,
Kenny Larkin,
The United States of America,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fat Boys,
Dennis Brown,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mummies,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Wells,
Toni Rubio,
Scratch Acid,
Black Moon,
Fear,
Sly & The Family Stone,
L. Decosne,
Faraquet,
Eddi Front,
MDC,
Pierre Henry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Terry,
Eric Dolphy,
E-Dancer,
T. Rex,
The Slackers,
Iggy Pop,
Make Up,
The Count Five,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Qualms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
JFA,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Laurel Aitken,
Scientists,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Fania All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Slits,
Man Eating Sloth,
Shoche,
The Misunderstood,
Country Teasers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sarah Menescal,
Brick,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.