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 Colombia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron 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 Marshall Jefferson to the dance 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Urselle,
Khruangbin,
Fugazi,
Qualms,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fuzztones,
Pierre Henry,
Adolescents,
Minny Pops,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun Ra,
Stiv Bators,
Robert Görl,
The Monks,
Peter & Gordon,
The Pretty Things,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ponytail,
Wasted Youth,
Gong,
Country Joe & The Fish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deadbeat,
Von Mondo,
Mission of Burma,
The Associates,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Sherman,
The New Christs,
Tears for Fears,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Warren Ellis,
Negative Approach,
John Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
The Alarm Clocks,
Howard Jones,
Bootsy Collins,
Whodini,
Spandau Ballet,
the Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dark Day,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fire Engines,
ABBA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
F. McDonald,
Lalo Schifrin,
China Crisis,
The Vogues,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Seeds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.