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 Sudan and from Bremen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Monks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fluxion,
Subhumans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arab on Radar,
Brick,
The Angels of Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slits,
The Barracudas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Franke,
The Leaves,
The Zeros,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Neu!,
Bush Tetras,
Sam Rivers,
Hoover,
Amon Düül,
Main Source,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Buckinghams,
Funkadelic,
The Real Kids,
The Detroit Cobras,
Young Marble Giants,
Johnny Clarke,
The Moody Blues,
New Age Steppers,
Adolescents,
H. Thieme,
Suicide,
Ronan,
Fatback Band,
Bootsy Collins,
June Days,
Delon & Dalcan,
Toni Rubio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Human League,
MDC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Patti Smith,
Prince Buster,
LL Cool J,
Second Layer,
Au Pairs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Amon Düül II,
Mo-Dettes,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dirtbombs,
Jawbox,
Fad Gadget,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.