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 Belgium and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum 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 UT to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius 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?
B.T. Express,
Minnie Riperton,
Can,
Johnny Clarke,
Sarah Menescal,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yaz,
MDC,
Pierre Henry,
Schoolly D,
X-102,
Depeche Mode,
Eli Mardock,
The Stooges,
Peter and Kerry,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Cluster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pulsallama,
Babytalk,
Donny Hathaway,
Suicide,
Motorama,
Ossler,
The Smoke,
Flipper,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fear,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
Easy Going,
Eurythmics,
Bad Manners,
Yazoo,
the Association,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu,
Subhumans,
Idris Muhammad,
Toni Rubio,
Circle Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Agitation Free,
Average White Band,
Panda Bear,
Clear Light,
The Golliwogs,
Interpol,
Minor Threat,
Ten City,
Ronan,
Archie Shepp,
the Germs,
Porter Ricks,
Deepchord,
K-Klass,
Cymande,
Ken Boothe,
New Order,
Electric Prunes,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.