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 Germany and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shoche,
The Human League,
Moss Icon,
Cameo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fluxion,
The Invisible,
The Index,
L. Decosne,
Royal Trux,
Pussy Galore,
Be Bop Deluxe,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fugs,
the Human League,
David Axelrod,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Busters,
Wire,
PIL,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Rufus Thomas,
Marvin Gaye,
Sonic Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Michelle Simonal,
The Smoke,
The Barracudas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
The Gories,
Scratch Acid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
One Last Wish,
Hashim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marc Almond,
Kaleidoscope,
Yusef Lateef,
Colin Newman,
Rekid,
John Coltrane,
The Kinks,
Eurythmics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Smog,
Liliput,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ornette Coleman,
The Vogues,
Drexciya,
Soft Machine,
Tres Demented,
The Raincoats,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.