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 Philippines and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the güiro 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 Mandrill to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron 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 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?
Man Parrish,
Judy Mowatt,
The Pretty Things,
Avey Tare,
Howard Jones,
The Cowsills,
David Axelrod,
Ohio Players,
Unwound,
Scott Walker,
Matthew Halsall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brand Nubian,
The Litter,
June of 44,
The Gories,
Deakin,
Franke,
Yazoo,
The Trojans,
The Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gladiators,
Pylon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Copeland,
Skaos,
Bobby Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
B.T. Express,
Essential Logic,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rekid,
Barry Ungar,
Sun Ra,
Godley & Creme,
Cecil Taylor,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tommy Roe,
D'Angelo,
Graham Central Station,
Joe Finger,
Amazonics,
Joey Negro,
Theoretical Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mr. Review,
Connie Case,
Minor Threat,
Deadbeat,
Bad Manners,
Flash Fearless,
New York Dolls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alphaville,
Fluxion,
Vladislav Delay,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.