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 Kazakhstan and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 Avey Tare to the disco 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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Star Department,
The Offenders,
Johnny Clarke,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Bourne,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Starr,
Kurtis Blow,
Lungfish,
Albert Ayler,
Nas,
Agent Orange,
Malaria!,
Sandy B,
The Walker Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
Man Parrish,
The Grass Roots,
Byron Stingily,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kenny Larkin,
Ice-T,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cal Tjader,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Groovy Waters,
D'Angelo,
Kas Product,
Second Layer,
Alice Coltrane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Model 500,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
10cc,
Leonard Cohen,
Aural Exciters,
Chrome,
Ornette Coleman,
Eddi Front,
Black Moon,
ABBA,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Buzzcocks,
Young Marble Giants,
ABC,
Adolescents,
the Human League,
Jeru the Damaja,
Todd Terry,
Nik Kershaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.