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 Pakistan and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stockholm Monsters to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Flag,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sun City Girls,
The Red Krayola,
Urselle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Moebius,
Robert Görl,
Electric Prunes,
The Young Rascals,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wally Richardson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alison Limerick,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
Procol Harum,
The Five Americans,
The Selecter,
Dawn Penn,
Rites of Spring,
Parry Music,
Eve St. Jones,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Saccharine Trust,
R.M.O.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Doors,
The Trojans,
Scion,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ice-T,
Rakim,
Jandek,
Technova,
Traffic Nightmare,
Depeche Mode,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warsaw,
Con Funk Shun,
Erykah Badu,
Lower 48,
John Holt,
Ludus,
Surgeon,
Wire,
Nation of Ulysses,
Faraquet,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Starr,
DNA,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Names,
The Toasters,
The Music Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.