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 Luxembourg and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe 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 The American Breed to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
The Victims,
EPMD,
Ice-T,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bizarre Inc.,
Boz Scaggs,
Roxy Music,
Flash Fearless,
Qualms,
Godley & Creme,
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
Prince Buster,
Eric Dolphy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Susan Cadogan,
Graham Central Station,
Ponytail,
Bob Dylan,
Amon Düül,
The Doobie Brothers,
Neil Young,
Shuggie Otis,
Mr. Review,
Warsaw,
Ultravox,
Jerry's Kids,
Basic Channel,
Au Pairs,
Maleditus Sound,
Zero Boys,
Severed Heads,
Desert Stars,
Terry Callier,
Erykah Badu,
Barclay James Harvest,
David McCallum,
Scrapy,
Roxette,
Bobby Byrd,
Thee Headcoats,
Lou Christie,
New Age Steppers,
Cluster,
The Stooges,
Leonard Cohen,
Scott Walker,
Niagra,
Johnny Clarke,
Toni Rubio,
X-101,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Morten Harket,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
John Holt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.