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 Namibia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Organ to the rock 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The United States of America,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dead Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Angry Samoans,
Scrapy,
Arab on Radar,
Simply Red,
Rufus Thomas,
Bronski Beat,
Liliput,
Ronnie Foster,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sixth Finger,
Pussy Galore,
Althea and Donna,
Hashim,
Pantytec,
Deadbeat,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Bar-Kays,
John Lydon,
Symarip,
Jeff Lynne,
Donny Hathaway,
The Saints,
Yazoo,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Görl,
The Zeros,
The Young Rascals,
Moss Icon,
Lungfish,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Reed,
Aural Exciters,
Banda Bassotti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Main Source,
Black Moon,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
Graham Central Station,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The J.B.'s,
Television,
Shoche,
The Monks,
Radiohead,
Leonard Cohen,
Tres Demented,
The Tremeloes,
the Association,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dave Clark Five,
Michelle Simonal,
Y Pants,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.