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 Maldives 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
The Busters,
Pulsallama,
The Mojo Men,
Radio Birdman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry's Kids,
Electric Prunes,
Junior Murvin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Minny Pops,
Donny Hathaway,
Rites of Spring,
U.S. Maple,
FM Einheit,
Y Pants,
The Monks,
China Crisis,
Sound Behaviour,
The Names,
Aaron Thompson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moby Grape,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Star Department,
Slave,
Man Eating Sloth,
Malaria!,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Foxx,
The Toasters,
The Remains,
Thee Headcoats,
Public Enemy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bill Wells,
Cal Tjader,
Matthew Bourne,
Deadbeat,
Bad Manners,
Thompson Twins,
Deepchord,
The Grass Roots,
Heaven 17,
Qualms,
Sarah Menescal,
Scion,
Dave Gahan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quadrant,
Easy Going,
Barclay James Harvest,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scientists,
June of 44,
The Selecter,
Ronan,
Massinfluence,
Sight & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.