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 Chad and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dorothy Ashby to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Dawn Penn,
Blossom Toes,
Eurythmics,
Supertramp,
Black Flag,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter and Kerry,
Fluxion,
Bronski Beat,
The Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
Goldenarms,
Crooked Eye,
Kas Product,
Delon & Dalcan,
Motorama,
The Buckinghams,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Colin Newman,
The Gap Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Amazonics,
Glenn Branca,
Quantec,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alphaville,
The Names,
Matthew Halsall,
The Searchers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Interpol,
Rekid,
Masters at Work,
Rufus Thomas,
Moebius,
Minutemen,
Slick Rick,
Dennis Brown,
Los Fastidios,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jandek,
Lee Hazlewood,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heaven 17,
The Zeros,
a-ha,
Tubeway Army,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Basic Channel,
Outsiders,
Marine Girls,
Don Cherry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yusef Lateef,
Minor Threat,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.