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 Dominica and from Cairo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Carl Craig to the disco 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ 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 guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Rufus Thomas,
Index,
The Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Heaven 17,
China Crisis,
The Stooges,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Infiniti,
June of 44,
Junior Murvin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sugar Minott,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dave Gahan,
Angry Samoans,
Fatback Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Moss Icon,
The Selecter,
Gang Starr,
Arcadia,
Ronan,
Ten City,
Second Layer,
This Heat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Liliput,
Duran Duran,
La Düsseldorf,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Wake,
Anthony Braxton,
Patti Smith,
DJ Style,
The Martian,
Roxette,
The Electric Prunes,
Cameo,
Pantytec,
Alton Ellis,
Jandek,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
The Durutti Column,
Charles Mingus,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gladiators,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
A Certain Ratio,
Qualms,
Black Flag,
Freddie Wadling,
Nick Fraelich,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.