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 Zimbabwe and from Mexico City.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 David Bowie 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the crunk 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
In Retrospect,
Tubeway Army,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cowsills,
Eli Mardock,
Lyres,
Wings,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crooked Eye,
Mr. Review,
Gang Green,
The Count Five,
Moss Icon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jacques Brel,
Royal Trux,
DNA,
K-Klass,
Liliput,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick May,
Derrick Morgan,
Dead Boys,
Fort Wilson Riot,
8 Eyed Spy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Barracudas,
Hot Snakes,
AZ,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fugs,
The Walker Brothers,
Grauzone,
Easy Going,
Erykah Badu,
Second Layer,
The Kinks,
Lakeside,
Fatback Band,
Scientists,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Selecter,
PIL,
ABC,
Harry Pussy,
Sound Behaviour,
Stiv Bators,
Spoonie Gee,
Brothers Johnson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispian St. Peters,
Juan Atkins,
Roger Hodgson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Amon Düül II,
Swell Maps,
Pierre Henry,
Masters at Work,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.