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 Taiwan and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Roger Hodgson to the grunge 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Barry Ungar,
Ten City,
The Monochrome Set,
Judy Mowatt,
The Selecter,
New Age Steppers,
Colin Newman,
The Pretty Things,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Idris Muhammad,
The Slackers,
DNA,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare,
Qualms,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
Ice-T,
Chris Corsano,
Roxette,
David Axelrod,
Althea and Donna,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Subhumans,
Janne Schatter,
The Divine Comedy,
Neu!,
DJ Style,
Robert Wyatt,
Danielle Patucci,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Tremeloes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Popol Vuh,
MC5,
The Walker Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
The Moody Blues,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rakim,
Mary Jane Girls,
Don Cherry,
Anakelly,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pulsallama,
Tears for Fears,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
The Beau Brummels,
Aural Exciters,
The Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Howard Jones,
Faraquet,
Flipper,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Peter and Kerry,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.