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 Argentina and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the punk 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '50s 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 Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Saccharine Trust,
Blancmange,
8 Eyed Spy,
Vainqueur,
Nas,
John Cale,
Lindisfarne,
Howard Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
H. Thieme,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thompson Twins,
Crooked Eye,
Dave Gahan,
Tubeway Army,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric Copeland,
Piero Umiliani,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bill Wells,
Roger Hodgson,
Aloha Tigers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grey Daturas,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Monochrome Set,
Nirvana,
K-Klass,
Hot Snakes,
Barry Ungar,
Flipper,
Joe Finger,
the Sonics,
The Wake,
Ornette Coleman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
Television,
Index,
Rufus Thomas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boogie Down Productions,
DJ Sneak,
Amazonics,
Charles Mingus,
Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
The Raincoats,
Essential Logic,
Ultra Naté,
Harry Pussy,
the Normal,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mummies,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brothers Johnson,
Yazoo,
June Days,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.