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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Vladislav Delay 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cowsills,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deadbeat,
Barrington Levy,
Kurtis Blow,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultimate Spinach,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
Steve Hackett,
Pierre Henry,
Eric Dolphy,
Todd Rundgren,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cameo,
Robert Hood,
X-101,
Rod Modell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
UT,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sister Nancy,
The Electric Prunes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crash Course in Science,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare,
Wolf Eyes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
Don Cherry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Monochrome Set,
Sixth Finger,
Tubeway Army,
The Fortunes,
Stiv Bators,
The Gap Band,
Soft Cell,
a-ha,
Alison Limerick,
Tomorrow,
Tim Buckley,
Nirvana,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Happenings,
Popol Vuh,
E-Dancer,
the Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wire,
New York Dolls,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.