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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Avey Tare to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
X-101,
Royal Trux,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Sonic Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Ituana,
Nick Fraelich,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blake Baxter,
Kas Product,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terry Callier,
The Mummies,
Connie Case,
Drexciya,
Pet Shop Boys,
Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Procol Harum,
Whodini,
The Fortunes,
Accadde A,
Bush Tetras,
Tears for Fears,
Gang Starr,
Ornette Coleman,
the Soft Cell,
The Slits,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scott Walker,
The Walker Brothers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dawn Penn,
Tommy Roe,
The Human League,
Trumans Water,
Babytalk,
Sarah Menescal,
Grauzone,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rufus Thomas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Silicon Teens,
Subhumans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Buzzcocks,
Sun Ra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marc Almond,
Dark Day,
Quadrant,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.