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 Vietnam and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Vainqueur to the punk 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Judy Mowatt,
Liliput,
DJ Sneak,
B.T. Express,
The Pretty Things,
New Order,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magma,
Black Bananas,
The Misunderstood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Anthony Braxton,
Boredoms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Easy Going,
Icehouse,
Accadde A,
Minor Threat,
X-101,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Can,
The Music Machine,
Susan Cadogan,
Colin Newman,
The Slackers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mo-Dettes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Youth Brigade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Anakelly,
The Moleskins,
Dennis Brown,
Television,
John Coltrane,
Sam Rivers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Flag,
Monolake,
Warren Ellis,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Clarke,
The Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Lydon,
kango's stein massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
T.S.O.L.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marmalade,
Lou Christie,
Arthur Verocai,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Malaria!,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.