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 Monaco and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Monolake to the techno 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Ronnie Foster,
Albert Ayler,
Suicide,
Minnie Riperton,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thee Headcoats,
Metal Thangz,
Mary Jane Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
Marmalade,
Subhumans,
The Techniques,
Depeche Mode,
Con Funk Shun,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Divine Comedy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cymande,
Dark Day,
Black Pus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Delon & Dalcan,
World's Most,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Vogues,
ABC,
Kenny Larkin,
These Immortal Souls,
Guru Guru,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
X-102,
Tears for Fears,
Gichy Dan,
Don Cherry,
Mantronix,
Funky Four + One,
Lindisfarne,
Desert Stars,
Bang On A Can,
Barry Ungar,
Von Mondo,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Starr,
Rod Modell,
Darondo,
Bauhaus,
Unwound,
Man Parrish,
Faust,
Nils Olav,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gap Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fela Kuti,
Brand Nubian,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.