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 Ukraine and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Pierre Henry to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Selecter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Bush Tetras,
In Retrospect,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
June of 44,
Supertramp,
Fatback Band,
Laurel Aitken,
B.T. Express,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Almond,
Albert Ayler,
Urselle,
Drexciya,
L. Decosne,
Electric Prunes,
Morten Harket,
Tim Buckley,
Scrapy,
10cc,
The Kinks,
Ronan,
Wolf Eyes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swell Maps,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kayak,
Man Parrish,
Idris Muhammad,
Livin' Joy,
Accadde A,
Barry Ungar,
Leonard Cohen,
Sam Rivers,
Anakelly,
Lakeside,
The Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
The Birthday Party,
Aaron Thompson,
Bang On A Can,
Minutemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Index,
The Mojo Men,
Bootsy Collins,
Carl Craig,
Jacob Miller,
Traffic Nightmare,
JFA,
Johnny Clarke,
Skriet,
Wally Richardson,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.