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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dead Boys to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Letta Mbulu,
New Age Steppers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
U.S. Maple,
Essential Logic,
MDC,
Black Flag,
Minor Threat,
The Martian,
Cymande,
John Lydon,
Intrusion,
X-102,
Bill Near,
Pylon,
Blancmange,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Derrick May,
Josef K,
Yusef Lateef,
This Heat,
Brass Construction,
Ultra Naté,
The Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pulsallama,
The Cramps,
Soft Machine,
Ronnie Foster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Amon Düül II,
Rufus Thomas,
Crime,
Subhumans,
Easy Going,
David Axelrod,
Howard Jones,
Donny Hathaway,
Roger Hodgson,
Dark Day,
Eddi Front,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slits,
The Leaves,
Hashim,
Tom Boy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
Scientists,
Quantec,
The Neon Judgement,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mantronix,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Ossler,
The Moody Blues,
Monolake,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.