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 Fiji and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord 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 Average White Band to the techno 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cybotron,
Soft Machine,
Spandau Ballet,
The Last Poets,
Tom Boy,
Rapeman,
Al Stewart,
The Young Rascals,
Derrick May,
Ken Boothe,
James White and The Blacks,
Yaz,
Moby Grape,
The Remains,
the Soft Cell,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pantytec,
Kayak,
Drexciya,
Accadde A,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Skatalites,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cramps,
Moebius,
In Retrospect,
Simply Red,
Absolute Body Control,
Amazonics,
Fatback Band,
Blossom Toes,
The Angels of Light,
Shuggie Otis,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
Public Enemy,
H. Thieme,
The Mummies,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arab on Radar,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
These Immortal Souls,
Moss Icon,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Womack,
The Pop Group,
Magma,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Janne Schatter,
Fear,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Albert Ayler,
Judy Mowatt,
Jimmy McGriff,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry's Kids,
Skarface,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.