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 Belarus and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 U.S. Maple to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Mark Hollis,
Zero Boys,
The Fortunes,
The Star Department,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Normal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tubeway Army,
Joy Division,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Henry Cow,
The Gladiators,
Neu!,
Rakim,
Masters at Work,
Cheater Slicks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eli Mardock,
Sixth Finger,
The Dirtbombs,
EPMD,
New Order,
The Last Poets,
Symarip,
B.T. Express,
Dark Day,
Subhumans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Davy DMX,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
48th St. Collective,
R.M.O.,
Hashim,
Skaos,
Depeche Mode,
Barrington Levy,
UT,
Shoche,
Yellowson,
The Blues Magoos,
Charles Mingus,
Jawbox,
MC5,
Aaron Thompson,
Wings,
Essential Logic,
Angry Samoans,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fuzztones,
New York Dolls,
Severed Heads,
The Durutti Column,
Pere Ubu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warren Ellis,
Smog,
Bill Near,
Freddie Wadling,
Parry Music,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.