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 Uruguay and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gerry Rafferty to the jazz 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin 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 arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Angry Samoans,
Black Sheep,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aaron Thompson,
New York Dolls,
Michelle Simonal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tomorrow,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultra Naté,
Wolf Eyes,
Das Ding,
June Days,
Hashim,
Bluetip,
Bill Near,
Scientists,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Divine Comedy,
The Victims,
Faraquet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
D'Angelo,
Massinfluence,
Public Enemy,
Can,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minnie Riperton,
Donald Byrd,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Spoonie Gee,
Erykah Badu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Martian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dead Boys,
Man Parrish,
Fugazi,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moody Blues,
Silicon Teens,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fall,
Crooked Eye,
Ponytail,
Althea and Donna,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Busters,
The New Christs,
The Star Department,
The Seeds,
Godley & Creme,
The Last Poets,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.