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 Egypt and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Moebius,
Morten Harket,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soulsonic Force,
Fluxion,
Aswad,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Birthday Party,
Mission of Burma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mad Mike,
The J.B.'s,
Slave,
LL Cool J,
Heaven 17,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Germs,
Skriet,
Blake Baxter,
The Slits,
The Tremeloes,
Soul II Soul,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Can,
Nirvana,
Absolute Body Control,
Faust,
Joe Smooth,
Subhumans,
Tim Buckley,
The Knickerbockers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boredoms,
Khruangbin,
Alice Coltrane,
Ituana,
Siglo XX,
Sex Pistols,
Underground Resistance,
Byron Stingily,
Reagan Youth,
the Swans,
Joe Finger,
The Alarm Clocks,
Suburban Knight,
Supertramp,
Audionom,
Amon Düül II,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Smiths,
The Golliwogs,
The Young Rascals,
The Buckinghams,
Funky Four + One,
Steve Hackett,
The Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cameo,
Half Japanese,
The Blues Magoos,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.