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 Algeria and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron 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 F. McDonald to the grunge 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Green,
Crash Course in Science,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amon Düül II,
The Fuzztones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Patti Smith,
Inner City,
Minor Threat,
New Order,
Sugar Minott,
The Kinks,
Alphaville,
Mantronix,
Theoretical Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pantaleimon,
Television,
Joe Smooth,
Swans,
Scott Walker,
Marvin Gaye,
Bob Dylan,
David Bowie,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
MDC,
Minutemen,
Black Sheep,
Lindisfarne,
Michelle Simonal,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Babytalk,
Mark Hollis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The New Christs,
F. McDonald,
Zero Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Donald Byrd,
Outsiders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Delta 5,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The J.B.'s,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eli Mardock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Eric Copeland,
The Fortunes,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.