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 Finland and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Curtis Mayfield to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Electric Prunes,
This Heat,
The Gories,
Marine Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Archie Shepp,
Nirvana,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric Dolphy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sam Rivers,
The Kinks,
The Invisible,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dual Sessions,
Blake Baxter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Intrusion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Althea and Donna,
Magazine,
Hasil Adkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Davy DMX,
The Velvet Underground,
Oneida,
Bush Tetras,
Mr. Review,
Can,
Janne Schatter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Franke,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Copeland,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
Kurtis Blow,
Youth Brigade,
Ultra Naté,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Skatalites,
Girls At Our Best!,
Y Pants,
The Busters,
The Beau Brummels,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang of Four,
Eurythmics,
Fluxion,
The Angels of Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grauzone,
Terrestrial Tones,
Public Enemy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brass Construction,
Severed Heads,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.