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 Armenia and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Howard Jones,
New Age Steppers,
Patti Smith,
The Slackers,
Zero Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Raincoats,
The Doors,
The Real Kids,
The Selecter,
Terry Callier,
Loose Ends,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scratch Acid,
FM Einheit,
Yazoo,
Minny Pops,
Reagan Youth,
Jawbox,
Brand Nubian,
X-101,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fuzztones,
Heaven 17,
Buzzcocks,
Adolescents,
June Days,
Deepchord,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Green,
the Slits,
Bauhaus,
Gichy Dan,
Radiohead,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Donald Byrd,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pere Ubu,
Stiv Bators,
Spoonie Gee,
Janne Schatter,
48th St. Collective,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eden Ahbez,
The Residents,
Sight & Sound,
Sun City Girls,
Excepter,
Lucky Dragons,
La Düsseldorf,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gabor Szabo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.