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 Portugal and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marmalade to the dance 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a harpsichord 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 marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Banda Bassotti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quantec,
Blake Baxter,
Eve St. Jones,
The Kinks,
Archie Shepp,
Juan Atkins,
The Move,
The Offenders,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Last Poets,
Harmonia,
Desert Stars,
Iggy Pop,
Heaven 17,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Darondo,
Das Ding,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ronnie Foster,
DNA,
Fad Gadget,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Todd Terry,
Dawn Penn,
Tubeway Army,
Public Enemy,
Boredoms,
Sparks,
Pharoah Sanders,
KRS-One,
Guru Guru,
Flash Fearless,
Gichy Dan,
Boz Scaggs,
Kas Product,
The Mummies,
Fat Boys,
Janne Schatter,
Black Pus,
Eric B and Rakim,
AZ,
John Lydon,
The Real Kids,
Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eurythmics,
Colin Newman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crooked Eye,
Clear Light,
Tears for Fears,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Pretty Things,
Schoolly D,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.