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 Guatemala and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar 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 Blake Baxter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Shoche,
Goldenarms,
Warsaw,
Dawn Penn,
Connie Case,
Colin Newman,
Basic Channel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soft Cell,
Faust,
Pylon,
Delta 5,
Unwound,
Technova,
Ronnie Foster,
Skaos,
Depeche Mode,
A Certain Ratio,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Five Americans,
Gang of Four,
June of 44,
MDC,
Iggy Pop,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scientists,
Gang Green,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mandrill,
The Invisible,
Monolake,
Junior Murvin,
The Remains,
Grey Daturas,
The Victims,
Television,
Lalann,
The New Christs,
Dark Day,
Eric Dolphy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Patti Smith,
Silicon Teens,
Howard Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Malaria!,
Henry Cow,
Prince Buster,
Little Man,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Joy Division,
Deadbeat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Warren Ellis,
Sound Behaviour,
Faraquet,
The Names,
cv313,
Bad Manners,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.