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 South Sudan and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nas to the grime 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
T. Rex,
Q and Not U,
Second Layer,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Unrelated Segments,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pylon,
Rotary Connection,
Siglo XX,
The Fortunes,
Hoover,
Kerri Chandler,
Warsaw,
A Certain Ratio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Essential Logic,
The Litter,
June of 44,
The Slits,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slackers,
Lakeside,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marvin Gaye,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gladiators,
Freddie Wadling,
Skriet,
The Cure,
Average White Band,
This Heat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roxy Music,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Junior Murvin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric B and Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minnie Riperton,
The Neon Judgement,
Newcleus,
Dave Gahan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Green,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Shuggie Otis,
Amon Düül II,
Fluxion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barrington Levy,
Radiohead,
Archie Shepp,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.