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 Marshall Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pylon,
Bobby Womack,
Camouflage,
Nico,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ornette Coleman,
DJ Style,
Camberwell Now,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Slits,
Nirvana,
Public Image Ltd.,
Supertramp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tim Buckley,
the Association,
Graham Central Station,
Glenn Branca,
The Grass Roots,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Mills,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs,
Livin' Joy,
Brass Construction,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dead Boys,
Youth Brigade,
Max Romeo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skarface,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Accadde A,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantytec,
Black Bananas,
Young Marble Giants,
Roy Ayers,
The Moleskins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Skaos,
Reagan Youth,
The Slackers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Saints,
A Certain Ratio,
Blake Baxter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Con Funk Shun,
The Walker Brothers,
Scan 7,
Scrapy,
Gang Green,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.