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 Nicaragua and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin 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 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Pussy Galore,
Joey Negro,
Dawn Penn,
Godley & Creme,
Saccharine Trust,
The Velvet Underground,
The Blues Magoos,
Laurel Aitken,
Marine Girls,
Fear,
Josef K,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
cv313,
U.S. Maple,
The Standells,
Tomorrow,
Erasure,
June Days,
the Normal,
Eric Copeland,
The Slits,
OOIOO,
Tommy Roe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rakim,
Tom Boy,
Terry Callier,
R.M.O.,
The Residents,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ten City,
Simply Red,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
Guru Guru,
Thompson Twins,
Spoonie Gee,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
MDC,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Animal Collective,
Donald Byrd,
Minutemen,
Alton Ellis,
The Smoke,
Bill Wells,
The J.B.'s,
Mr. Review,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronan,
The Knickerbockers,
Cecil Taylor,
Harmonia,
Urselle,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.