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 Bhutan and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 Deadbeat to the electroclash 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Fad Gadget,
Suburban Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Index,
Malaria!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moby Grape,
Gang of Four,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barrington Levy,
Alison Limerick,
Blossom Toes,
The Last Poets,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Erykah Badu,
Ronnie Foster,
Second Layer,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Groovy Waters,
Stereo Dub,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lightning Bolt,
Stiv Bators,
L. Decosne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ponytail,
Mary Jane Girls,
OOIOO,
Tubeway Army,
Skarface,
Kerrie Biddell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Schoolly D,
Sarah Menescal,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New York Dolls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Happenings,
Slave,
The New Christs,
Fat Boys,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MDC,
World's Most,
Jacob Miller,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
cv313,
Skaos,
The Grass Roots,
the Bar-Kays,
the Slits,
D'Angelo,
Marine Girls,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.