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 Rwanda and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
John Lydon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harry Pussy,
Hot Snakes,
Theoretical Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Quando Quango,
Faraquet,
Jeff Lynne,
Unwound,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Prunes,
The Real Kids,
JFA,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oneida,
Crash Course in Science,
Max Romeo,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül II,
The Gap Band,
Sonic Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Average White Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Hashim,
Dark Day,
Sällskapet,
Lindisfarne,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Wells,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Matthew Halsall,
Stockholm Monsters,
Don Cherry,
a-ha,
Ossler,
The Cure,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Invisible,
Laurel Aitken,
L. Decosne,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Detroit Cobras,
Juan Atkins,
Todd Rundgren,
Franke,
The United States of America,
Smog,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed,
Derrick Morgan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sonics,
The Tremeloes,
Blossom Toes,
Motorama,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.