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 Philippines and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang On A Can 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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?
Malaria!,
Pierre Henry,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Anakelly,
Quadrant,
Joyce Sims,
The Misunderstood,
Magazine,
The Black Dice,
Whodini,
UT,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Freddie Wadling,
Simply Red,
The Invisible,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fela Kuti,
Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
T. Rex,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fall,
Organ,
Arab on Radar,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Halsall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moebius,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marine Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
EPMD,
Stiv Bators,
Underground Resistance,
Eric Dolphy,
Tres Demented,
Hashim,
Lalann,
Ronan,
The Red Krayola,
Youth Brigade,
Porter Ricks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marvin Gaye,
The Barracudas,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Starr,
New York Dolls,
Magma,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Selecter,
The Leaves,
Joey Negro,
The Blues Magoos,
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Bananas,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.