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 Somalia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Holt to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin 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 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The Evens,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rhythm & Sound,
UT,
Roger Hodgson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wally Richardson,
Severed Heads,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Womack,
Eddi Front,
Electric Prunes,
L. Decosne,
Wolf Eyes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Letta Mbulu,
Sun City Girls,
Scan 7,
Lindisfarne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lakeside,
Kerri Chandler,
Cluster,
Mandrill,
Wings,
Technova,
K-Klass,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Newcleus,
Joyce Sims,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-Ray Spex,
Magma,
Curtis Mayfield,
Janne Schatter,
The Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Victims,
Chris Corsano,
The American Breed,
Yaz,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacob Miller,
John Holt,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aloha Tigers,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.