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 Comoros and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fire Engines to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Maurizio,
David Axelrod,
Minutemen,
New York Dolls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Surgeon,
The Gap Band,
The Birthday Party,
Yellowson,
Brass Construction,
The Seeds,
Radio Birdman,
In Retrospect,
The Index,
Slave,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Zeros,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rod Modell,
the Human League,
David McCallum,
The Star Department,
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
Drive Like Jehu,
Shoche,
Roxy Music,
Delta 5,
Nirvana,
Minnie Riperton,
The Techniques,
Jandek,
Black Sheep,
The Grass Roots,
Hoover,
Kurtis Blow,
Letta Mbulu,
Fat Boys,
Pantaleimon,
The Kinks,
Wings,
The Standells,
Gang Gang Dance,
Animal Collective,
June Days,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
World's Most,
Swell Maps,
Rekid,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Clarke,
Audionom,
Ponytail,
Talk Talk,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.