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 Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Lou Reed 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 Gastr Del Sol to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Groovy Waters,
The Busters,
Prince Buster,
Peter & Gordon,
Royal Trux,
Nik Kershaw,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Motions,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mummies,
Roxette,
a-ha,
The Gun Club,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Star Department,
Urselle,
Nico,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soft Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Average White Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Donny Hathaway,
Outsiders,
Massinfluence,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
The Young Rascals,
X-101,
Ornette Coleman,
Wally Richardson,
Youth Brigade,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Masters at Work,
Skarface,
Scott Walker,
The American Breed,
Bobby Byrd,
Fatback Band,
Simply Red,
Lower 48,
Max Romeo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deakin,
Sun City Girls,
Pole,
Franke,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Victims,
Mantronix,
Bill Wells,
The Fall,
The Mojo Men,
T. Rex,
These Immortal Souls,
JFA,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.