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 Djibouti and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Lydon to the rap 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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Whodini,
Index,
Yusef Lateef,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Buzzcocks,
The Associates,
Black Flag,
David Axelrod,
Popol Vuh,
Minor Threat,
Main Source,
Robert Hood,
Fatback Band,
Silicon Teens,
Cymande,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
The Black Dice,
Magma,
Minny Pops,
The Dead C,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
This Heat,
The Busters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ralphi Rosario,
Aloha Tigers,
The Birthday Party,
L. Decosne,
Arcadia,
Slave,
Steve Hackett,
K-Klass,
Khruangbin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hasil Adkins,
Scratch Acid,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Procol Harum,
Joensuu 1685,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
LL Cool J,
Ituana,
the Bar-Kays,
Brick,
Echospace,
Bootsy Collins,
Aural Exciters,
Sixth Finger,
Nico,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fuzztones,
Camouflage,
X-101,
Dark Day,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.