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 Micronesia and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Barry Ungar to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Sheep,
Porter Ricks,
Urselle,
Quando Quango,
Kerri Chandler,
The Residents,
Gang of Four,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Q65,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fad Gadget,
Connie Case,
Mandrill,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quantec,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Grass Roots,
DJ Sneak,
Arthur Verocai,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The J.B.'s,
The Golliwogs,
Cybotron,
AZ,
Cymande,
Angry Samoans,
Duran Duran,
The Barracudas,
Bob Dylan,
the Association,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Swans,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Byron Stingily,
Chris & Cosey,
The Mummies,
The Zeros,
The Seeds,
Johnny Clarke,
Dennis Brown,
Neu!,
Bluetip,
Can,
Fear,
Aural Exciters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Agitation Free,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
Nik Kershaw,
Wasted Youth,
R.M.O.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Das Ding,
Grauzone,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.