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 Madagascar and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Fela Kuti,
Vladislav Delay,
Patti Smith,
The Kinks,
Lyres,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Laurel Aitken,
Jacques Brel,
Prince Buster,
Main Source,
Reagan Youth,
Parry Music,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-101,
The Litter,
The Five Americans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sister Nancy,
Nik Kershaw,
Sparks,
Soft Machine,
Joe Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Jandek,
Zapp,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New Order,
Gang Starr,
Jeff Lynne,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hasil Adkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Faust,
Fat Boys,
Siglo XX,
R.M.O.,
The Names,
The Wake,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare,
The Smoke,
Magazine,
Johnny Osbourne,
Au Pairs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Sherman,
Pole,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Smog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Model 500,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mad Mike,
The Motions,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.