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 Morocco and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stereo Dub to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 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 snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Newcleus,
Man Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
Andrew Hill,
AZ,
World's Most,
Monolake,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Matthew Bourne,
Prince Buster,
Jandek,
Moss Icon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
June of 44,
Sister Nancy,
Eli Mardock,
Gerry Rafferty,
LL Cool J,
Cluster,
Jeru the Damaja,
Toni Rubio,
Wolf Eyes,
Niagra,
Massinfluence,
Quadrant,
Visage,
Make Up,
Deadbeat,
Minor Threat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tears for Fears,
Shoche,
Joyce Sims,
Thompson Twins,
The Moody Blues,
The Doors,
Moby Grape,
The Cure,
Neu!,
Sun City Girls,
Scan 7,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
KRS-One,
Skarface,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Rundgren,
Barbara Tucker,
Idris Muhammad,
Slick Rick,
The Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Black Bananas,
Q65,
Bush Tetras,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.