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 Yemen and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jacob Miller,
Faraquet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marmalade,
UT,
Rakim,
Soft Cell,
Drexciya,
cv313,
Parry Music,
Magazine,
Funkadelic,
Television Personalities,
The American Breed,
DJ Style,
Michelle Simonal,
Cameo,
Procol Harum,
Gang of Four,
New York Dolls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Negative Approach,
Connie Case,
Darondo,
Maleditus Sound,
Icehouse,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
a-ha,
John Holt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter and Kerry,
Joey Negro,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Davy DMX,
Scion,
The Moleskins,
Don Cherry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Man Parrish,
Cecil Taylor,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Skatalites,
Black Sheep,
ABC,
Roy Ayers,
Nick Fraelich,
F. McDonald,
Khruangbin,
Pagans,
Wolf Eyes,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Byrd,
Audionom,
Bang On A Can,
Kayak,
The Barracudas,
The Sound,
John Lydon,
Mo-Dettes,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.