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 Sweden and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes 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 Rufus Thomas to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Fela Kuti,
Wasted Youth,
The Invisible,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Porter Ricks,
Althea and Donna,
Gong,
Severed Heads,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Golliwogs,
Chris Corsano,
Cybotron,
the Sonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scion,
Carl Craig,
Second Layer,
Sight & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
The Standells,
the Slits,
Tom Boy,
Matthew Halsall,
Banda Bassotti,
Wally Richardson,
Brick,
Joe Finger,
Motorama,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slick Rick,
X-Ray Spex,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Sherman,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Flag,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiopuhelimet,
Joyce Sims,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dave Clark Five,
48th St. Collective,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mo-Dettes,
Isaac Hayes,
Marvin Gaye,
MDC,
Pharoah Sanders,
New Order,
The Residents,
The Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Be Bop Deluxe,
John Coltrane,
Simply Red,
Easy Going,
Tommy Roe,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.