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 Kuwait and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bluetip to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe 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 All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Osbourne,
AZ,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Pus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hot Snakes,
Drexciya,
The Searchers,
Darondo,
Panda Bear,
Pere Ubu,
DJ Sneak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Hood,
Bluetip,
D'Angelo,
Ice-T,
China Crisis,
Skarface,
Von Mondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Qualms,
Inner City,
Joensuu 1685,
DNA,
Dennis Brown,
Gang of Four,
Patti Smith,
Gong,
Talk Talk,
The Sound,
Jeff Mills,
The Fire Engines,
48th St. Collective,
The Stooges,
Slave,
Tommy Roe,
The Trojans,
F. McDonald,
The Names,
Dave Gahan,
Moss Icon,
Cal Tjader,
Cecil Taylor,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Cale,
Soulsonic Force,
Kerrie Biddell,
Davy DMX,
Cameo,
Yaz,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Evens,
Zapp,
Donny Hathaway,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.