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 Fiji and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donald Byrd,
The Techniques,
Judy Mowatt,
Hardrive,
Trumans Water,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Last Poets,
Los Fastidios,
Cheater Slicks,
Y Pants,
Mo-Dettes,
Eric Dolphy,
Harmonia,
Aswad,
Bobby Sherman,
Mad Mike,
The Sonics,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sällskapet,
Sparks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joe Finger,
Moebius,
Alice Coltrane,
Saccharine Trust,
Wally Richardson,
Scratch Acid,
The Tremeloes,
FM Einheit,
ABC,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Panda Bear,
Eli Mardock,
China Crisis,
Newcleus,
ABBA,
Cecil Taylor,
Leonard Cohen,
Symarip,
Howard Jones,
The Busters,
Thee Headcoats,
Danielle Patucci,
New Age Steppers,
Minor Threat,
Swans,
Glenn Branca,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yaz,
This Heat,
Alison Limerick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mars,
Jandek,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.