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 Uganda and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 48th St. Collective to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Icehouse,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Piero Umiliani,
Lightning Bolt,
Guru Guru,
Mad Mike,
Khruangbin,
Al Stewart,
Freddie Wadling,
Neil Young,
Cymande,
Inner City,
Morten Harket,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
The Cramps,
Howard Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Joe Smooth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mark Hollis,
Kas Product,
Nirvana,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja,
Brand Nubian,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Wake,
Radio Birdman,
Simply Red,
Flipper,
Popol Vuh,
Parry Music,
Eden Ahbez,
Scott Walker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minutemen,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Görl,
Los Fastidios,
Absolute Body Control,
Television Personalities,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Todd Terry,
Porter Ricks,
Q and Not U,
Juan Atkins,
The Grass Roots,
Colin Newman,
Anthony Braxton,
Pierre Henry,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.