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 Korea South and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Technova to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Count Five,
X-102,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The New Christs,
Infiniti,
the Human League,
Talk Talk,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fela Kuti,
Nik Kershaw,
Amon Düül,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Offenders,
Bill Wells,
John Foxx,
Black Pus,
Severed Heads,
Ronnie Foster,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lungfish,
Ultravox,
Blancmange,
Sällskapet,
Stereo Dub,
John Lydon,
The Tremeloes,
U.S. Maple,
Deakin,
The Angels of Light,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Funky Four + One,
Tres Demented,
Warsaw,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mission of Burma,
Junior Murvin,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Metal Thangz,
The Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
Guru Guru,
Eve St. Jones,
John Holt,
Television,
Byron Stingily,
Ronan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minny Pops,
Dawn Penn,
Outsiders,
Camberwell Now,
The Techniques,
Banda Bassotti,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Almond,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.