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 Bolivia and from Accra.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Reuben Wilson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
the Slits,
Ronnie Foster,
Ronan,
Nils Olav,
Faraquet,
Buzzcocks,
Ponytail,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
10cc,
MDC,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hot Snakes,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Moon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Henry Cow,
The Doobie Brothers,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
Joyce Sims,
Ludus,
The Electric Prunes,
Y Pants,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeru the Damaja,
Qualms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Cramps,
Rotary Connection,
the Soft Cell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Nas,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Arab on Radar,
Harmonia,
Suicide,
Fugazi,
Peter & Gordon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rites of Spring,
Albert Ayler,
The United States of America,
Roger Hodgson,
Ten City,
The Motions,
Joy Division,
Robert Hood,
Al Stewart,
FM Einheit,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alton Ellis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ohio Players,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.