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 Uruguay and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the rock 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters 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?
Flipper,
The Blues Magoos,
Zapp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blancmange,
Stiv Bators,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Absolute Body Control,
The Golliwogs,
The Remains,
Moby Grape,
Sun City Girls,
L. Decosne,
Porter Ricks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
10cc,
Judy Mowatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
LL Cool J,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Sheep,
Junior Murvin,
Moss Icon,
H. Thieme,
Reuben Wilson,
Accadde A,
Silicon Teens,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q and Not U,
Adolescents,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Martian,
Mr. Review,
Blake Baxter,
Carl Craig,
Trumans Water,
Ice-T,
Tubeway Army,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
AZ,
Minor Threat,
Mars,
Funkadelic,
Sarah Menescal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Smog,
Cluster,
Tomorrow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Popol Vuh,
Monks,
Crooked Eye,
The Index,
Gong,
The Names,
Arcadia,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fatback Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Busters,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.