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 Czech Republic and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Man Parrish to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Thompson Twins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
Janne Schatter,
Hardrive,
Gong,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dirtbombs,
Cameo,
The Leaves,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stetsasonic,
Ludus,
Infiniti,
Ituana,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Doors,
The Black Dice,
Rekid,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alice Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
Fear,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eve St. Jones,
Funky Four + One,
Heaven 17,
Excepter,
Television Personalities,
Crime,
Rakim,
Brick,
Television,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ken Boothe,
David Bowie,
This Heat,
Agitation Free,
Kurtis Blow,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
Gastr Del Sol,
Funkadelic,
Roxette,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skaos,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eurythmics,
Fad Gadget,
Scrapy,
The Walker Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Panda Bear,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.