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 Belize and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
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 Susan Cadogan to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Eden Ahbez,
Shoche,
Ice-T,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Angels of Light,
Jeff Mills,
The Skatalites,
Urselle,
Ponytail,
Main Source,
Clear Light,
Max Romeo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
Dave Gahan,
Althea and Donna,
Duran Duran,
Silicon Teens,
Jesper Dahlback,
Susan Cadogan,
Stiv Bators,
Glenn Branca,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott Heron,
Severed Heads,
Zero Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Steve Hackett,
Agent Orange,
Jerry's Kids,
New Order,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pharoah Sanders,
Simply Red,
The Durutti Column,
Cameo,
Groovy Waters,
Shuggie Otis,
New York Dolls,
Black Pus,
The Birthday Party,
Subhumans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
New Age Steppers,
Don Cherry,
B.T. Express,
Skaos,
Juan Atkins,
The Standells,
Magazine,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Throbbing Gristle,
AZ,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blancmange,
the Association,
The Beau Brummels,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.