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 Brunei and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mr. Review to the funk 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a rhodes 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 spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Smoke,
Dave Gahan,
Erykah Badu,
The Gun Club,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yaz,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Trojans,
D'Angelo,
Susan Cadogan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
Jeff Mills,
Hot Snakes,
Connie Case,
June Days,
The American Breed,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Normal,
Robert Hood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Swell Maps,
Shuggie Otis,
The Slackers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Last Poets,
Sam Rivers,
Camouflage,
Harmonia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
The Red Krayola,
Soft Machine,
Kayak,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wings,
Yazoo,
Nik Kershaw,
Sound Behaviour,
DNA,
Negative Approach,
Laurel Aitken,
Q65,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ohio Players,
K-Klass,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Vladislav Delay,
Young Marble Giants,
Visage,
Jeru the Damaja,
E-Dancer,
Gong,
Juan Atkins,
Nirvana,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.