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 Belarus and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 ABC to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roxette,
Crash Course in Science,
Q and Not U,
Ludus,
Parry Music,
The Monks,
Bill Near,
Alice Coltrane,
Man Eating Sloth,
10cc,
The Techniques,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Bowie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sight & Sound,
The Real Kids,
In Retrospect,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Faust,
The Move,
The Smiths,
Don Cherry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Outsiders,
Laurel Aitken,
Barry Ungar,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Modern Lovers,
Thee Headcoats,
Fatback Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Angels of Light,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Young Rascals,
The Associates,
The Mojo Men,
June Days,
Fad Gadget,
Model 500,
Brick,
The Trojans,
Loose Ends,
Deepchord,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Shuggie Otis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacob Miller,
Panda Bear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.