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 Haiti and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Pharoah Sanders to the funk 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quantec,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Goldenarms,
Little Man,
The Doors,
Swans,
Mission of Burma,
Outsiders,
Dead Boys,
Toni Rubio,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hasil Adkins,
X-Ray Spex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hashim,
The Blues Magoos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Liliput,
Nas,
The Last Poets,
The Gun Club,
Scientists,
The Mojo Men,
Circle Jerks,
John Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Offenders,
Urselle,
June Days,
Radiohead,
Fluxion,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
Black Moon,
Marmalade,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
Matthew Halsall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scion,
Ultravox,
Tres Demented,
L. Decosne,
The Vogues,
X-102,
Robert Görl,
Patti Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Move,
Ponytail,
the Sonics,
Charles Mingus,
Godley & Creme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Basic Channel,
Derrick Morgan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eric Dolphy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.