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 Guinea-Bissau and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba 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 synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
The Saints,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fuzztones,
The Angels of Light,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Monks,
The Red Krayola,
The Zeros,
The Litter,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Enemy,
Flipper,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dave Gahan,
Talk Talk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Howard Jones,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Alarm Clocks,
Michelle Simonal,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pussy Galore,
DJ Style,
X-101,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joensuu 1685,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Flash Fearless,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Laurel Aitken,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Silicon Teens,
Sugar Minott,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nirvana,
Rites of Spring,
Sight & Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
Neu!,
June of 44,
Ten City,
Symarip,
Cluster,
Reagan Youth,
Darondo,
The Smiths,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Clarke,
Shuggie Otis,
The Offenders,
Delon & Dalcan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Grass Roots,
Rapeman,
Nico,
The Barracudas,
Make Up,
Sonic Youth,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.