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 Saudi Arabia and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
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 oboe 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 Maleditus Sound to the punk 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
The Gories,
Minor Threat,
Ornette Coleman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June of 44,
Man Parrish,
48th St. Collective,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Duran Duran,
Black Pus,
DJ Sneak,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Green,
Neu!,
the Bar-Kays,
John Lydon,
Archie Shepp,
A Certain Ratio,
DNA,
The Evens,
the Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Skatalites,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alice Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stetsasonic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roxy Music,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Hill,
Magma,
John Foxx,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aloha Tigers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Janne Schatter,
Peter & Gordon,
Michelle Simonal,
World's Most,
Qualms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gang Gang Dance,
Danielle Patucci,
Grey Daturas,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blackbyrds,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.