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 Barbados and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dennis Brown to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Franke,
Babytalk,
Piero Umiliani,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacob Miller,
Juan Atkins,
The Litter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
Prince Buster,
Public Enemy,
Scion,
Vainqueur,
Crime,
Desert Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
Bronski Beat,
Hot Snakes,
The Vogues,
Y Pants,
Magma,
Neu!,
Scrapy,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cramps,
Mad Mike,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nico,
Byron Stingily,
Skarface,
Jesper Dahlback,
Young Marble Giants,
Tears for Fears,
Pere Ubu,
The Blackbyrds,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxy Music,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
Maurizio,
June Days,
Brass Construction,
Wally Richardson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Victims,
Pantytec,
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
Barbara Tucker,
Surgeon,
Bobby Byrd,
June of 44,
Amon Düül,
Mr. Review,
Goldenarms,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.