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 Liechtenstein and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 H. Thieme 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Laurel Aitken,
The Slits,
KRS-One,
Pussy Galore,
The Grass Roots,
cv313,
The Associates,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kerri Chandler,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jacques Brel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yellowson,
Jandek,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonic Youth,
Glenn Branca,
Monks,
Black Flag,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pop Group,
Franke,
Surgeon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry's Kids,
Ronan,
Bronski Beat,
the Association,
Amon Düül II,
Whodini,
The Black Dice,
Tomorrow,
Jeff Lynne,
Interpol,
Supertramp,
Pet Shop Boys,
Second Layer,
The Dead C,
Simply Red,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Goldenarms,
Joe Finger,
Altered Images,
The Gladiators,
Kaleidoscope,
Von Mondo,
Donny Hathaway,
Robert Görl,
DNA,
Essential Logic,
Grey Daturas,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.