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 China and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the disco 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
X-102,
One Last Wish,
Vladislav Delay,
John Cale,
Graham Central Station,
The Names,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Derrick Morgan,
Fatback Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Toni Rubio,
DNA,
Sparks,
Eric Dolphy,
Warsaw,
Section 25,
The Moody Blues,
Brass Construction,
Yellowson,
The Knickerbockers,
Intrusion,
Steve Hackett,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Faust,
The Fire Engines,
Scion,
Sun City Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cluster,
Ossler,
Fugazi,
Sun Ra,
Ituana,
K-Klass,
Michelle Simonal,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cameo,
Man Parrish,
Babytalk,
Al Stewart,
World's Most,
The Star Department,
Ronnie Foster,
Aswad,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The New Christs,
Flash Fearless,
The Flesh Eaters,
Isaac Hayes,
Outsiders,
Black Flag,
Theoretical Girls,
The Victims,
Dead Boys,
The Raincoats,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Busters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.