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 Vanuatu 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Index to the electroclash 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Supertramp,
Niagra,
Monks,
Kas Product,
The Invisible,
kango's stein massive,
Visage,
Outsiders,
June Days,
Livin' Joy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Smog,
Minny Pops,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Machine,
Sex Pistols,
Oneida,
Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
The New Christs,
Freddie Wadling,
Scratch Acid,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment,
F. McDonald,
Gang of Four,
Minutemen,
The Smiths,
Toni Rubio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Don Cherry,
Pylon,
Scott Walker,
Franke,
Judy Mowatt,
Maurizio,
Main Source,
D'Angelo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brand Nubian,
The Offenders,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Womack,
The Doobie Brothers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
La Düsseldorf,
Technova,
Subhumans,
Tears for Fears,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Skatalites,
Eve St. Jones,
X-101,
Au Pairs,
Andrew Hill,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sugar Minott,
The Fall,
The Durutti Column,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.