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 India and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Holger Czukay 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 Delta 5 to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Camberwell Now,
New Order,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Mills,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soulsonic Force,
Whodini,
Robert Görl,
Crime,
Basic Channel,
H. Thieme,
Monolake,
Make Up,
Maurizio,
Unwound,
Nico,
Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rapeman,
Ronnie Foster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nirvana,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Christie,
Laurel Aitken,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jacques Brel,
Magma,
Au Pairs,
Skriet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Liliput,
John Cale,
K-Klass,
The Neon Judgement,
Kayak,
Spandau Ballet,
Khruangbin,
Motorama,
Franke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bill Near,
Lakeside,
Das Ding,
Neil Young,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ornette Coleman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gerry Rafferty,
Depeche Mode,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
The Dead C,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.