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 Equatorial Guinea and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 Scientists to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba 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 chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
the Swans,
Camouflage,
Au Pairs,
Reuben Wilson,
The Slackers,
In Retrospect,
The Beau Brummels,
T.S.O.L.,
Ohio Players,
Accadde A,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Loose Ends,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Qualms,
Ultra Naté,
Duran Duran,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quadrant,
Kas Product,
The Sound,
Scion,
Wings,
Camberwell Now,
Brass Construction,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alton Ellis,
Wasted Youth,
The Doors,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chrome,
Ossler,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott Heron,
Piero Umiliani,
Moss Icon,
Kenny Larkin,
Eurythmics,
Yusef Lateef,
the Slits,
Cameo,
Jeff Mills,
The Raincoats,
Smog,
Lucky Dragons,
Vainqueur,
DNA,
The Barracudas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scan 7,
Bobby Sherman,
Severed Heads,
Agitation Free,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Order,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
MDC,
Lower 48,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.