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 Syria and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 Blake Baxter to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Germs,
Rapeman,
John Foxx,
Dual Sessions,
Flipper,
Nas,
Alison Limerick,
B.T. Express,
Deepchord,
Dead Boys,
Blake Baxter,
The Saints,
Johnny Clarke,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
Pantaleimon,
Tim Buckley,
Arab on Radar,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Offenders,
Neil Young,
Adolescents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scion,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cramps,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun City Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Human League,
Drexciya,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dorothy Ashby,
Byron Stingily,
The Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott Heron,
Porter Ricks,
Procol Harum,
John Coltrane,
Metal Thangz,
Ten City,
David McCallum,
Thompson Twins,
China Crisis,
Black Pus,
Throbbing Gristle,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Amazonics,
The Fortunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Leonard Cohen,
Soft Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
La Düsseldorf,
Stetsasonic,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.