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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
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 arpeggiator 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 Lakeside to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dennis Brown,
the Human League,
John Coltrane,
Clear Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Underground Resistance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eyeless In Gaza,
June of 44,
Traffic Nightmare,
The New Christs,
Sister Nancy,
The Vogues,
Newcleus,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crooked Eye,
Cecil Taylor,
Kayak,
Idris Muhammad,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
Japan,
Mad Mike,
Circle Jerks,
Swans,
the Bar-Kays,
Cluster,
48th St. Collective,
Ultimate Spinach,
Talk Talk,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Kerrie Biddell,
Das Ding,
Carl Craig,
Amazonics,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Sherman,
The Real Kids,
Mandrill,
Warsaw,
Roxy Music,
Archie Shepp,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantaleimon,
Supertramp,
Metal Thangz,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
This Heat,
The Birthday Party,
Inner City,
Nik Kershaw,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.