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 Mauritius and from Cairo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Guru Guru to the techno 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
KRS-One,
The United States of America,
a-ha,
Arab on Radar,
Thompson Twins,
Mark Hollis,
Yazoo,
Arcadia,
One Last Wish,
Nico,
Camberwell Now,
The Divine Comedy,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gladiators,
Q65,
Bill Wells,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pulsallama,
Smog,
The Fugs,
Motorama,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Qualms,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Birthday Party,
Franke,
F. McDonald,
Kerrie Biddell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Television Personalities,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stiv Bators,
The Young Rascals,
Idris Muhammad,
Ohio Players,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Malaria!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bad Manners,
The Cure,
Sugar Minott,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bob Dylan,
Stereo Dub,
Morten Harket,
X-Ray Spex,
Newcleus,
Kurtis Blow,
Khruangbin,
Mo-Dettes,
the Soft Cell,
Radiopuhelimet,
B.T. Express,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Royal Trux,
Hoover,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cramps,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.