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 Montenegro and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Warsaw,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crime,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
Pharoah Sanders,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lower 48,
K-Klass,
Ponytail,
The Red Krayola,
The Victims,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
the Association,
Erykah Badu,
The J.B.'s,
Skarface,
Todd Terry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Happenings,
Agitation Free,
Angry Samoans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Copeland,
Neu!,
F. McDonald,
Fat Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scientists,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Bananas,
Barbara Tucker,
Shuggie Otis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Blues Magoos,
La Düsseldorf,
Buzzcocks,
Bush Tetras,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
Mission of Burma,
Mo-Dettes,
Qualms,
The New Christs,
Faraquet,
Cybotron,
Jimmy McGriff,
China Crisis,
Technova,
Black Pus,
The Walker Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Monochrome Set,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.