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 Haiti and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the punk 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hot Snakes,
Unrelated Segments,
The Motions,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Spandau Ballet,
Chrome,
Average White Band,
Babytalk,
Blancmange,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang Starr,
Gang Green,
Cecil Taylor,
The Slackers,
Thompson Twins,
James White and The Blacks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Whodini,
Marine Girls,
Hoover,
The Divine Comedy,
Bill Near,
Barrington Levy,
Wasted Youth,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun Ra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Masters at Work,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fear,
Ossler,
Roxy Music,
Marmalade,
Ronnie Foster,
Subhumans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
D'Angelo,
Yazoo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Sound,
Jandek,
Y Pants,
Mr. Review,
The Fuzztones,
The Fugs,
Moss Icon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Eric Dolphy,
The Moody Blues,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.