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 Slovenia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Joey Negro,
a-ha,
Andrew Hill,
Amon Düül,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Reed,
New Order,
Bill Near,
Crash Course in Science,
Quantec,
Second Layer,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Judy Mowatt,
Saccharine Trust,
Neu!,
Bobby Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare,
Nils Olav,
The Litter,
Maurizio,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABC,
Bill Wells,
Iggy Pop,
Agitation Free,
The Associates,
The Beau Brummels,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sister Nancy,
the Slits,
Angry Samoans,
Public Enemy,
Donny Hathaway,
Archie Shepp,
Jacob Miller,
Johnny Clarke,
Buzzcocks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Moleskins,
Sex Pistols,
Eddi Front,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Wyatt,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
Black Moon,
Funky Four + One,
K-Klass,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
Toni Rubio,
The Last Poets,
Duran Duran,
Slick Rick,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.