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 Niger and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jacob Miller to the rock 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a mellotron 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
The Motions,
The Dead C,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Susan Cadogan,
Morten Harket,
Ultra Naté,
Dark Day,
Deakin,
Au Pairs,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Green,
Eden Ahbez,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marmalade,
Duran Duran,
Simply Red,
Sam Rivers,
Average White Band,
Bluetip,
Lou Christie,
The Angels of Light,
Pet Shop Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soul II Soul,
Quantec,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Germs,
Gabor Szabo,
Warsaw,
The Stooges,
a-ha,
Hardrive,
Sex Pistols,
Echospace,
Bobby Byrd,
Quadrant,
the Swans,
Sugar Minott,
Easy Going,
Godley & Creme,
Babytalk,
The Five Americans,
Freddie Wadling,
Stiv Bators,
Black Pus,
Cymande,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wings,
Model 500,
Fluxion,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
David Axelrod,
Oneida,
Erasure,
Crash Course in Science,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.