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 Equatorial Guinea and from Stockholm.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 Rod Modell to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masters at Work,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mummies,
The Slackers,
The United States of America,
MC5,
Siglo XX,
Gong,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agent Orange,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Saints,
Maleditus Sound,
Robert Görl,
The Residents,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barry Ungar,
Sugar Minott,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fortunes,
Brick,
The Moody Blues,
The Martian,
In Retrospect,
Dead Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television,
Marmalade,
Shoche,
Thee Headcoats,
Marine Girls,
Todd Terry,
Magazine,
The Skatalites,
Parry Music,
Alton Ellis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Vogues,
Leonard Cohen,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fall,
Lungfish,
DJ Sneak,
Nirvana,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lakeside,
The Last Poets,
Bronski Beat,
Los Fastidios,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.