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 Indonesia and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Connie Case to the grunge 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
Gabor Szabo,
Jandek,
Ohio Players,
Delta 5,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scrapy,
Alton Ellis,
Ludus,
Josef K,
Franke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tim Buckley,
Marmalade,
Marine Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Remains,
Gang Starr,
Model 500,
Simply Red,
Lindisfarne,
Barry Ungar,
Bluetip,
Kurtis Blow,
Excepter,
Amazonics,
John Lydon,
Joyce Sims,
Jawbox,
Lebanon Hanover,
DJ Style,
Eli Mardock,
Das Ding,
Main Source,
Niagra,
Young Marble Giants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Electric Prunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Howard Jones,
The Moody Blues,
Lucky Dragons,
The Last Poets,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Michelle Simonal,
Danielle Patucci,
The Names,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scan 7,
The Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.