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 Bahrain and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Jerry's Kids to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ice-T,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Foxx,
The Cramps,
Pantytec,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minor Threat,
Black Pus,
New Age Steppers,
Wolf Eyes,
Lightning Bolt,
Grauzone,
Newcleus,
Joe Finger,
Ultra Naté,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Association,
The Blues Magoos,
Rekid,
The Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Niagra,
The Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
Carl Craig,
Black Bananas,
The Velvet Underground,
Cluster,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Vogues,
Index,
The Saints,
Bill Near,
Prince Buster,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Warren Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Franke,
Tim Buckley,
The Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Mummies,
Throbbing Gristle,
Don Cherry,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Techniques,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Can,
Duran Duran,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Blackbyrds,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.