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 Ireland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 The Detroit Cobras to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
DNA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tomorrow,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultra Naté,
Archie Shepp,
Black Flag,
Desert Stars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Iggy Pop,
Pierre Henry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Skatalites,
Anthony Braxton,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scott Walker,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kerri Chandler,
Toni Rubio,
Pole,
Silicon Teens,
The Real Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Peter and Kerry,
the Germs,
The United States of America,
Don Cherry,
Sandy B,
Liliput,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Morten Harket,
Altered Images,
Bad Manners,
The Neon Judgement,
Audionom,
the Sonics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Sherman,
Todd Rundgren,
The Young Rascals,
Bob Dylan,
The Selecter,
Jandek,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Moby Grape,
New York Dolls,
Barry Ungar,
Au Pairs,
Juan Atkins,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Human League,
Aural Exciters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Public Image Ltd.,
B.T. Express,
Stetsasonic,
Heaven 17,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.