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 Mauritius and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Rapeman to the disco 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Bootsy Collins,
H. Thieme,
Stockholm Monsters,
AZ,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Los Fastidios,
Freddie Wadling,
The Five Americans,
The Pretty Things,
Graham Central Station,
Black Sheep,
Quadrant,
Thee Headcoats,
John Coltrane,
The Count Five,
Parry Music,
Babytalk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Popol Vuh,
Yazoo,
The Smiths,
Robert Görl,
The Dirtbombs,
David Bowie,
Tim Buckley,
The Electric Prunes,
Joe Finger,
Darondo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Qualms,
The Misunderstood,
the Germs,
Intrusion,
Malaria!,
Echospace,
Althea and Donna,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Model 500,
Howard Jones,
Rekid,
Angry Samoans,
MDC,
The Remains,
Alice Coltrane,
the Swans,
Kerri Chandler,
T.S.O.L.,
Aural Exciters,
F. McDonald,
Loose Ends,
The Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Amazonics,
Scion,
Sandy B,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magazine,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Zapp,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.