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 Poland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Gang Starr,
the Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Easy Going,
David Bowie,
Eurythmics,
June of 44,
Albert Ayler,
The Mojo Men,
Bill Near,
Gichy Dan,
Mars,
Sun City Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry's Kids,
The Busters,
Mad Mike,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sam Rivers,
The Slackers,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Motions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mark Hollis,
New York Dolls,
Can,
Black Sheep,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eli Mardock,
Derrick May,
Wally Richardson,
Sandy B,
Joensuu 1685,
Bob Dylan,
Hardrive,
Technova,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Birthday Party,
The Victims,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Animal Collective,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marine Girls,
Wings,
Erykah Badu,
Theoretical Girls,
Cal Tjader,
The Buckinghams,
Kayak,
Cecil Taylor,
Jawbox,
Section 25,
Desert Stars,
Surgeon,
cv313,
The Pretty Things,
The New Christs,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.