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 East Timor and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Don Cherry to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 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 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?
Wire,
The Saints,
The Buckinghams,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monolake,
Pole,
Schoolly D,
Audionom,
Depeche Mode,
The Divine Comedy,
Hot Snakes,
KRS-One,
Anthony Braxton,
MDC,
Judy Mowatt,
Cameo,
World's Most,
The Red Krayola,
Porter Ricks,
Sun City Girls,
Boredoms,
Soul II Soul,
The Busters,
a-ha,
Bobby Sherman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Bananas,
Matthew Halsall,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Flag,
Dark Day,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Terry,
Lou Reed,
Fatback Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Happenings,
Marvin Gaye,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker,
Quantec,
Bad Manners,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Christie,
The Fugs,
John Holt,
Davy DMX,
cv313,
The Moody Blues,
Index,
Brick,
Talk Talk,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eli Mardock,
The J.B.'s,
Lalo Schifrin,
Q and Not U,
Erasure,
Skaos,
Whodini,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.