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 Morocco and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Boz Scaggs to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Newcleus,
Symarip,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Swans,
Pere Ubu,
Scion,
Los Fastidios,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Guru Guru,
Piero Umiliani,
Al Stewart,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Görl,
The Fuzztones,
Freddie Wadling,
Das Ding,
Bauhaus,
Parry Music,
Popol Vuh,
Susan Cadogan,
The Mojo Men,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Remains,
Bluetip,
Wasted Youth,
Clear Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sällskapet,
Aural Exciters,
X-Ray Spex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacob Miller,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brothers Johnson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Bowie,
Lou Reed,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter & Gordon,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Associates,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joyce Sims,
Scrapy,
Jacques Brel,
MC5,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Maleditus Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Donny Hathaway,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Clarke,
Roxy Music,
Andrew Hill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Livin' Joy,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.