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 El Salvador and from Lille.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Standells to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Holt,
Trumans Water,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slits,
The Moody Blues,
Outsiders,
Yazoo,
Lightning Bolt,
Vainqueur,
Shoche,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bob Dylan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ronan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harry Pussy,
LL Cool J,
Cluster,
the Swans,
Sun Ra,
Sun City Girls,
The Standells,
The Invisible,
The Slackers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The J.B.'s,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fad Gadget,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dark Day,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Chris Corsano,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Style,
T. Rex,
Lou Reed,
Lower 48,
Bill Wells,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kayak,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Modern Lovers,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order,
Warsaw,
Terry Callier,
10cc,
Don Cherry,
Charles Mingus,
Thee Headcoats,
Mr. Review,
Adolescents,
Whodini,
The Count Five,
The Gun Club,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.