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 Vanuatu and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the punk 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Hoover,
Black Flag,
Black Sheep,
Blancmange,
The Birthday Party,
Parry Music,
K-Klass,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roxette,
Urselle,
Jawbox,
Television Personalities,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Magma,
KRS-One,
Mad Mike,
Dead Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Funkadelic,
Oblivians,
Crash Course in Science,
Joe Finger,
Technova,
Agitation Free,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Offenders,
Amazonics,
Cameo,
Dual Sessions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Country Teasers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Glenn Branca,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grey Daturas,
Godley & Creme,
Visage,
Deepchord,
Rekid,
Soul Sonic Force,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Reuben Wilson,
Ohio Players,
The Modern Lovers,
Niagra,
The Divine Comedy,
Barbara Tucker,
Jesper Dahlback,
Moby Grape,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lalo Schifrin,
Reagan Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nirvana,
Morten Harket,
Mr. Review,
Maleditus Sound,
Pagans,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.