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 Iraq and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Banda Bassotti to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
The Pop Group,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harmonia,
Idris Muhammad,
Tropical Tobacco,
Livin' Joy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aswad,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brass Construction,
Wasted Youth,
Skarface,
Depeche Mode,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Massinfluence,
Newcleus,
Model 500,
Y Pants,
Circle Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gong,
New Order,
Jacques Brel,
the Soft Cell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brand Nubian,
The Names,
Hashim,
Brick,
Vladislav Delay,
Make Up,
Television,
Sandy B,
Curtis Mayfield,
Television Personalities,
The Count Five,
Camberwell Now,
Radio Birdman,
T.S.O.L.,
Joey Negro,
Deadbeat,
Sonic Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wings,
Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hasil Adkins,
The Five Americans,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Barracudas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Spandau Ballet,
Pantytec,
Tim Buckley,
Drive Like Jehu,
Colin Newman,
Goldenarms,
Cymande,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.