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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Delon & Dalcan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Soulsonic Force,
a-ha,
Pulsallama,
Amon Düül II,
Fad Gadget,
Anakelly,
Gerry Rafferty,
Outsiders,
Moss Icon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Basic Channel,
Nico,
Slave,
Technova,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rod Modell,
Archie Shepp,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pussy Galore,
The Beau Brummels,
Alison Limerick,
Darondo,
Aaron Thompson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cramps,
DJ Sneak,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Derrick May,
Sixth Finger,
ABBA,
The Black Dice,
Groovy Waters,
Babytalk,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
X-102,
Sly & The Family Stone,
MDC,
The Neon Judgement,
kango's stein massive,
David Axelrod,
Peter and Kerry,
Faust,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Rundgren,
Rapeman,
Leonard Cohen,
Judy Mowatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lungfish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Wyatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cybotron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bill Wells,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.