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 Seychelles and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jandek to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Harry Pussy,
Section 25,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeff Mills,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
Man Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
Frankie Knuckles,
Echospace,
Crime,
The Birthday Party,
Rapeman,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Blues Magoos,
Das Ding,
Ohio Players,
Cluster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ten City,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suicide,
One Last Wish,
Faust,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Negative Approach,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
48th St. Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The J.B.'s,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Buzzcocks,
Alison Limerick,
The Standells,
Godley & Creme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New York Dolls,
Rekid,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
Smog,
Stetsasonic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pussy Galore,
Blancmange,
Juan Atkins,
Anthony Braxton,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fluxion,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mad Mike,
Ossler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Anakelly,
Mandrill,
The Invisible,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.