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 Cambodia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Suicide to the grunge 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Rapeman,
Oblivians,
Cheater Slicks,
Moby Grape,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cecil Taylor,
the Normal,
David Axelrod,
John Lydon,
Trumans Water,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
a-ha,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arcadia,
Boredoms,
Althea and Donna,
The Sound,
the Germs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
Sister Nancy,
Ken Boothe,
Quantec,
The Residents,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ornette Coleman,
Mo-Dettes,
Roger Hodgson,
Suburban Knight,
The Selecter,
Bush Tetras,
Smog,
The Standells,
F. McDonald,
Rotary Connection,
Gong,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
the Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Hood,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Zero Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Angels of Light,
The Gap Band,
Maleditus Sound,
The Moody Blues,
Radiohead,
Mandrill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Urselle,
Donald Byrd,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.