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 Bhutan and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Schoolly D to the funk 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Janne Schatter,
Fear,
Funkadelic,
Crime,
Gang Gang Dance,
Warren Ellis,
Roxy Music,
Jandek,
Black Moon,
Wire,
Camberwell Now,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
David Axelrod,
Black Sheep,
Simply Red,
The Smiths,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Groovy Waters,
Lyres,
Ten City,
The Mummies,
Man Parrish,
Outsiders,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Foxx,
Negative Approach,
Ponytail,
Chris Corsano,
Magazine,
Aural Exciters,
The Associates,
Bluetip,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Qualms,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang Green,
Lalann,
Wings,
Scrapy,
Excepter,
Zapp,
Eric Copeland,
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers,
Sparks,
Fela Kuti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bootsy Collins,
The Black Dice,
Talk Talk,
Con Funk Shun,
Desert Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
Supertramp,
R.M.O.,
The Gap Band,
LL Cool J,
Quantec,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grauzone,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.