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 Tonga and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet 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 Jeru the Damaja to the disco 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
Stereo Dub,
Cheater Slicks,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
Piero Umiliani,
Porter Ricks,
Jeff Lynne,
Ossler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Copeland,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sparks,
Rites of Spring,
K-Klass,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bronski Beat,
Eli Mardock,
the Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter and Kerry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Organ,
Sandy B,
Erykah Badu,
The Smiths,
Tim Buckley,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gichy Dan,
Donny Hathaway,
New York Dolls,
Wolf Eyes,
Toni Rubio,
Chris Corsano,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Five Americans,
Isaac Hayes,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott Heron,
Visage,
The Beau Brummels,
Ice-T,
Boogie Down Productions,
Funkadelic,
Vladislav Delay,
Massinfluence,
Make Up,
Agent Orange,
Groovy Waters,
Grauzone,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Mummies,
Technova,
Andrew Hill,
Wally Richardson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Sun City Girls,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.