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 Libya and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sound Behaviour to the disco 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Sällskapet,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Görl,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
ABBA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Red Krayola,
Subhumans,
Hot Snakes,
Loose Ends,
H. Thieme,
Symarip,
Bluetip,
Joyce Sims,
Stetsasonic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Los Fastidios,
Pussy Galore,
Moebius,
Massinfluence,
Aural Exciters,
FM Einheit,
Trumans Water,
Eric Dolphy,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kerri Chandler,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lou Reed,
The Saints,
Supertramp,
Country Teasers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jacob Miller,
the Swans,
The United States of America,
Bauhaus,
Harry Pussy,
Lower 48,
The Move,
Boredoms,
Sarah Menescal,
Smog,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Human League,
Gichy Dan,
the Bar-Kays,
Albert Ayler,
Wings,
Liliput,
Cheater Slicks,
Iggy Pop,
Skriet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Newcleus,
Ronnie Foster,
The Last Poets,
Eden Ahbez,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.