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 Austria and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eddi Front to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a snare 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rites of Spring,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ronnie Foster,
Gichy Dan,
Ludus,
The Litter,
David Bowie,
Minny Pops,
Scott Walker,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Trojans,
Essential Logic,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Happenings,
Soft Machine,
The Leaves,
Japan,
Chrome,
Jimmy McGriff,
La Düsseldorf,
MDC,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pantaleimon,
Jeff Mills,
Anakelly,
Motorama,
Boz Scaggs,
Eden Ahbez,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Little Man,
Radiohead,
L. Decosne,
ABBA,
Morten Harket,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marvin Gaye,
H. Thieme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Reagan Youth,
Minor Threat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swans,
The Divine Comedy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Youth Brigade,
Tres Demented,
Liliput,
Chris Corsano,
Desert Stars,
Fad Gadget,
Circle Jerks,
Connie Case,
Erykah Badu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quantec,
The Busters,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.