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 Somalia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the disco 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Metal Thangz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Faraquet,
Eve St. Jones,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Organ,
New York Dolls,
Eric Dolphy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Quadrant,
David McCallum,
Jerry's Kids,
Desert Stars,
The Moleskins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Sherman,
Boredoms,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Steve Hackett,
Johnny Clarke,
Tim Buckley,
Crooked Eye,
Black Bananas,
The Techniques,
Peter and Kerry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pulsallama,
Ronan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Warren Ellis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ohio Players,
Television,
Essential Logic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rosa Yemen,
The Seeds,
Magma,
Kerri Chandler,
Reagan Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
Can,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Babytalk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skriet,
Monolake,
New Age Steppers,
Pantytec,
Radio Birdman,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.