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 Benin and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Con Funk Shun to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator 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 marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
The Busters,
The Moody Blues,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Urselle,
Dennis Brown,
The Durutti Column,
DJ Style,
The Tremeloes,
Bill Near,
Bobby Byrd,
Anthony Braxton,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Young Rascals,
The Modern Lovers,
Chrome,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Starr,
Stetsasonic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wolf Eyes,
Ludus,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric Dolphy,
Cameo,
Heaven 17,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
The Offenders,
Nas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
One Last Wish,
Ornette Coleman,
Freddie Wadling,
Absolute Body Control,
Mandrill,
Motorama,
Gong,
Robert Wyatt,
The Saints,
Shuggie Otis,
The Pop Group,
Boredoms,
Cluster,
Aural Exciters,
AZ,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spoonie Gee,
The Divine Comedy,
Man Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
Arab on Radar,
Crooked Eye,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alphaville,
Terry Callier,
The Buckinghams,
Kool Moe Dee,
Moby Grape,
The American Breed,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.