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 Jordan and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Slick Rick to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Alice Coltrane,
Whodini,
Dead Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Terry Callier,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Searchers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Man Parrish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aloha Tigers,
Sixth Finger,
Electric Prunes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Groovy Waters,
Cheater Slicks,
Circle Jerks,
Procol Harum,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Camouflage,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James White and The Blacks,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
The J.B.'s,
The Five Americans,
Juan Atkins,
Byron Stingily,
Alton Ellis,
Rod Modell,
Bad Manners,
Rapeman,
Depeche Mode,
Clear Light,
Goldenarms,
The Offenders,
Boogie Down Productions,
Royal Trux,
Agent Orange,
Delta 5,
Adolescents,
Guru Guru,
The Smiths,
Joy Division,
Peter and Kerry,
Sonic Youth,
Agitation Free,
Curtis Mayfield,
Make Up,
Pierre Henry,
Ice-T,
New Age Steppers,
L. Decosne,
Anthony Braxton,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.