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 Turkmenistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the rock 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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare 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 linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rosa Yemen,
Minny Pops,
Y Pants,
Skarface,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Durutti Column,
The Moody Blues,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
The Smiths,
CMW,
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Zero Boys,
Erasure,
Circle Jerks,
Cecil Taylor,
Nik Kershaw,
ABC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Wolf Eyes,
Angry Samoans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Sheep,
Hot Snakes,
Little Man,
The Searchers,
The Stooges,
Bluetip,
Cheater Slicks,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
D'Angelo,
Sight & Sound,
Flipper,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Blancmange,
The Five Americans,
Moss Icon,
Roy Ayers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eve St. Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nils Olav,
Kaleidoscope,
Toni Rubio,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bill Near,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fela Kuti,
Dark Day,
Aural Exciters,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.