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 Netherlands and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Agitation Free to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Clear Light,
The Fortunes,
Iggy Pop,
Ken Boothe,
Donny Hathaway,
The Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gap Band,
Fluxion,
Tropical Tobacco,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Sneak,
Monolake,
Grey Daturas,
F. McDonald,
John Coltrane,
Index,
Bluetip,
Matthew Bourne,
Subhumans,
Groovy Waters,
Roy Ayers,
The Dave Clark Five,
cv313,
Yellowson,
Blancmange,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mark Hollis,
Slick Rick,
Angry Samoans,
Metal Thangz,
Loose Ends,
Jacob Miller,
Sparks,
Harmonia,
Royal Trux,
Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Warren Ellis,
The Litter,
Moebius,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dirtbombs,
Eurythmics,
Saccharine Trust,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harry Pussy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Womack,
Blake Baxter,
David McCallum,
The Detroit Cobras,
Peter and Kerry,
The Victims,
Boredoms,
The Fugs,
Pere Ubu,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sonics,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.