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 Benin and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Cure to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oneida,
Jeff Mills,
One Last Wish,
Nils Olav,
Hasil Adkins,
Severed Heads,
The Beau Brummels,
Sonic Youth,
Boredoms,
X-102,
Liliput,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
H. Thieme,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soft Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fela Kuti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reagan Youth,
The Grass Roots,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
Gichy Dan,
Animal Collective,
Radiohead,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Selecter,
Altered Images,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Real Kids,
Nirvana,
Isaac Hayes,
Tim Buckley,
Con Funk Shun,
The Index,
John Foxx,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tres Demented,
Loose Ends,
Anakelly,
Morten Harket,
A Certain Ratio,
Depeche Mode,
Aswad,
The Modern Lovers,
Erasure,
Connie Case,
Soft Cell,
The Move,
Outsiders,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kerri Chandler,
Pharoah Sanders,
Steve Hackett,
Khruangbin,
Skarface,
kango's stein massive,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.