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 Oman and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Rapeman to the jazz 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar 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 harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Litter,
The Gap Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alison Limerick,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
Main Source,
Dark Day,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Desert Stars,
Skaos,
Ralphi Rosario,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Josef K,
Radiohead,
Deadbeat,
Robert Wyatt,
Pole,
Bob Dylan,
JFA,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tears for Fears,
John Lydon,
Peter & Gordon,
The Cramps,
Heaven 17,
The Alarm Clocks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Red Krayola,
Curtis Mayfield,
Clear Light,
Hasil Adkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radio Birdman,
Basic Channel,
Jesper Dahlback,
Glenn Branca,
Rotary Connection,
Laurel Aitken,
The Martian,
Sugar Minott,
Nils Olav,
Reagan Youth,
Boredoms,
Bronski Beat,
Crooked Eye,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ornette Coleman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Maleditus Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gories,
Thee Headcoats,
Michelle Simonal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Al Stewart,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.