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 Brazil and from Mexico City.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Reuben Wilson to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Shoche,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aswad,
Iggy Pop,
Deadbeat,
CMW,
June Days,
Sandy B,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Byrd,
Kerri Chandler,
Lou Reed,
Y Pants,
Dark Day,
Crooked Eye,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sugar Minott,
The J.B.'s,
The Raincoats,
Sparks,
Tres Demented,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Doors,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dirtbombs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soulsonic Force,
Technova,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reagan Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Stockholm Monsters,
EPMD,
The Red Krayola,
The Tremeloes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joy Division,
Suburban Knight,
Delta 5,
Robert Görl,
The Busters,
Mad Mike,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Christie,
Boz Scaggs,
U.S. Maple,
Sällskapet,
Eurythmics,
The New Christs,
Piero Umiliani,
The Count Five,
Reuben Wilson,
The Young Rascals,
Zero Boys,
Faust,
Crispy Ambulance,
Massinfluence,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.