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 Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 Grey Daturas to the crunk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
Aloha Tigers,
Fat Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Jeff Mills,
Delta 5,
Rites of Spring,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Y Pants,
Gang Starr,
The Stooges,
Drexciya,
Mandrill,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deakin,
E-Dancer,
Q and Not U,
Yazoo,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Trojans,
Underground Resistance,
Parry Music,
Bill Wells,
New York Dolls,
Newcleus,
The Victims,
Quando Quango,
The Golliwogs,
Funky Four + One,
The Slackers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scrapy,
The Fire Engines,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Blossom Toes,
Grauzone,
Deepchord,
Harpers Bizarre,
L. Decosne,
Joey Negro,
Joy Division,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pulsallama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
H. Thieme,
Black Pus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Max Romeo,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fortunes,
Liliput,
Massinfluence,
Lou Reed,
Eli Mardock,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.