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 Germany and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the punk 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Bob Dylan,
Mo-Dettes,
Don Cherry,
The Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
DJ Style,
Crispy Ambulance,
The American Breed,
Glenn Branca,
The Velvet Underground,
UT,
Jeff Lynne,
Aloha Tigers,
Prince Buster,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arcadia,
Severed Heads,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Young Rascals,
The Durutti Column,
Nils Olav,
Black Sheep,
R.M.O.,
The United States of America,
Ten City,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Iggy Pop,
Little Man,
The Tremeloes,
Section 25,
Lungfish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Vogues,
Kevin Saunderson,
Duran Duran,
Radiohead,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dark Day,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Can,
Fluxion,
Suburban Knight,
Groovy Waters,
Goldenarms,
Eurythmics,
Kas Product,
Bobby Byrd,
Masters at Work,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra,
Deepchord,
Roy Ayers,
The Doors,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.