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 Andorra and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rap 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Minnie Riperton,
The Neon Judgement,
Curtis Mayfield,
Drexciya,
Marshall Jefferson,
Erasure,
the Bar-Kays,
B.T. Express,
the Slits,
The Happenings,
Procol Harum,
the Normal,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tres Demented,
Nik Kershaw,
Suburban Knight,
The Golliwogs,
Can,
Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Loose Ends,
Main Source,
Ornette Coleman,
Peter and Kerry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Matthew Bourne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Piero Umiliani,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Jacques Brel,
Davy DMX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Livin' Joy,
the Swans,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marine Girls,
Half Japanese,
Don Cherry,
Skriet,
L. Decosne,
World's Most,
David McCallum,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Malaria!,
The Skatalites,
Moss Icon,
Faust,
CMW,
The Associates,
Eve St. Jones,
Slick Rick,
Q and Not U,
A Certain Ratio,
LL Cool J,
Quando Quango,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.