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 Rwanda and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron 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 Judy Mowatt to the crunk 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts 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?
The Invisible,
Cecil Taylor,
Simply Red,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gong,
Porter Ricks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Michelle Simonal,
The Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool Moe Dee,
Malaria!,
James White and The Blacks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Suburban Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Laurel Aitken,
Rod Modell,
Scientists,
Oblivians,
Lyres,
Lightning Bolt,
Minor Threat,
Peter and Kerry,
The Index,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Saints,
Heaven 17,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deepchord,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grauzone,
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe,
The Five Americans,
The Monochrome Set,
KRS-One,
Faust,
Television,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ronan,
The Last Poets,
Whodini,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Smoke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Banda Bassotti,
ABBA,
Quantec,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.