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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 the Association to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Man Parrish,
The Monks,
Albert Ayler,
A Certain Ratio,
The Wake,
Eddi Front,
Skarface,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mission of Burma,
Severed Heads,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Circle Jerks,
Shuggie Otis,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
Parry Music,
Joyce Sims,
Sight & Sound,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
MC5,
Bill Near,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed,
Connie Case,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DJ Style,
Yusef Lateef,
Mantronix,
The Move,
K-Klass,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lyres,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeff Lynne,
Brass Construction,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Green,
Joey Negro,
Kayak,
Drexciya,
Ultra Naté,
Cecil Taylor,
Inner City,
Sparks,
Yellowson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
These Immortal Souls,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Holt,
Sonic Youth,
The Vogues,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quadrant,
Fatback Band,
Bang On A Can,
Vladislav Delay,
kango's stein massive,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brick,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.