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 Spain and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Yazoo to the crunk 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang On A Can,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed,
Andrew Hill,
Buzzcocks,
Ronnie Foster,
Joe Finger,
The New Christs,
Wings,
Chrome,
The Busters,
Deepchord,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultravox,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Skatalites,
Kool Moe Dee,
Albert Ayler,
Scientists,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Starr,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Smiths,
Glenn Branca,
The Walker Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Babytalk,
The Gap Band,
The Standells,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cure,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pantytec,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slackers,
The Blackbyrds,
Pole,
Eric Copeland,
Matthew Halsall,
KRS-One,
Nik Kershaw,
Terrestrial Tones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cal Tjader,
Alphaville,
The Barracudas,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
Maleditus Sound,
Trumans Water,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
June of 44,
Arthur Verocai,
B.T. Express,
Crime,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.