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 Fiji and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The New Christs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
AZ,
Main Source,
The Kinks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Subhumans,
Suicide,
Ten City,
K-Klass,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rakim,
Morten Harket,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Christie,
Toni Rubio,
Livin' Joy,
Organ,
Interpol,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
The Dead C,
Derrick Morgan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Cale,
X-101,
Television,
Prince Buster,
The Beau Brummels,
Aswad,
DJ Style,
Y Pants,
Carl Craig,
Skarface,
Bluetip,
Donald Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Rotary Connection,
Bauhaus,
Fela Kuti,
The Offenders,
Newcleus,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed,
Anthony Braxton,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pet Shop Boys,
Unwound,
The Black Dice,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
KRS-One,
Sun Ra,
Junior Murvin,
Black Sheep,
The Cure,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.