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 Croatia and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Andrew Hill to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Donald Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Ten City,
Henry Cow,
Oneida,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Hill,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dead C,
Main Source,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mummies,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blues Magoos,
Jandek,
CMW,
The Barracudas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
Nas,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sam Rivers,
Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Smog,
World's Most,
48th St. Collective,
Banda Bassotti,
New Age Steppers,
The Beau Brummels,
Severed Heads,
B.T. Express,
Amazonics,
Sonic Youth,
Patti Smith,
Erykah Badu,
Sandy B,
Alison Limerick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lalann,
Pole,
Chris & Cosey,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aswad,
Bauhaus,
Alphaville,
Yellowson,
Moebius,
Make Up,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare,
Grey Daturas,
The Human League,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.