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 Comoros 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ken Boothe to the punk 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Associates,
Fela Kuti,
Brand Nubian,
Drive Like Jehu,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Scion,
Al Stewart,
Soft Cell,
Liliput,
The Walker Brothers,
Oblivians,
48th St. Collective,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Brick,
Organ,
Sandy B,
Audionom,
Rites of Spring,
Malaria!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joensuu 1685,
Saccharine Trust,
Dennis Brown,
The Zeros,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
Radiohead,
Bush Tetras,
Bad Manners,
Derrick May,
Faraquet,
Aloha Tigers,
The Remains,
Pole,
Carl Craig,
Wire,
Das Ding,
T. Rex,
Howard Jones,
Jacob Miller,
Inner City,
Ornette Coleman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fat Boys,
The Busters,
Technova,
Pagans,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans,
Tommy Roe,
Lower 48,
Susan Cadogan,
The Count Five,
The Beau Brummels,
The Litter,
the Slits,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mummies,
Pantytec,
Eric Dolphy,
X-Ray Spex,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.