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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Youth Brigade to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Massinfluence,
Minor Threat,
The Names,
Easy Going,
Average White Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Searchers,
Eden Ahbez,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Lydon,
Sister Nancy,
Rapeman,
The Smoke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yazoo,
Robert Görl,
Ludus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Steve Hackett,
Gang of Four,
The Cowsills,
The Dirtbombs,
Derrick Morgan,
Rufus Thomas,
B.T. Express,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things,
Marmalade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos,
Khruangbin,
Matthew Bourne,
Liliput,
Kaleidoscope,
Hoover,
Sixth Finger,
Donny Hathaway,
The Busters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rites of Spring,
Tomorrow,
Aswad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yusef Lateef,
The Divine Comedy,
Grauzone,
Derrick May,
Make Up,
The Grass Roots,
Cameo,
Lou Christie,
Tom Boy,
The Music Machine,
Black Bananas,
Animal Collective,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.