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 Lithuania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 United States of America to the electroclash 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a synthesizer 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 a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Henry Cow,
Animal Collective,
Ice-T,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joe Smooth,
The Standells,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Association,
The Moody Blues,
Fluxion,
Sex Pistols,
The Black Dice,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Zeros,
Duran Duran,
The Blues Magoos,
The Toasters,
Jimmy McGriff,
MC5,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nico,
The Young Rascals,
Depeche Mode,
The Evens,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rotary Connection,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Human League,
T.S.O.L.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Talk Talk,
Skarface,
Roxette,
Mission of Burma,
Tomorrow,
The American Breed,
Nick Fraelich,
B.T. Express,
Arab on Radar,
Brand Nubian,
Magazine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crime,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Victims,
Half Japanese,
Ronnie Foster,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Index,
Anthony Braxton,
Marine Girls,
Janne Schatter,
Grey Daturas,
The Dead C,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
T. Rex,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.