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 Finland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eddi Front to the electroclash 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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator 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 snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Jimmy McGriff,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nico,
Jeff Lynne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Interpol,
Ludus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
AZ,
the Normal,
Saccharine Trust,
Wasted Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dirtbombs,
Skriet,
Motorama,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Siglo XX,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crooked Eye,
D'Angelo,
The Velvet Underground,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Colin Newman,
the Slits,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Second Layer,
Erykah Badu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Junior Murvin,
Monks,
Echospace,
The Wake,
The Electric Prunes,
E-Dancer,
Porter Ricks,
Guru Guru,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Wyatt,
Jerry's Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Toasters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cramps,
LL Cool J,
Bob Dylan,
Pussy Galore,
The Smoke,
Tim Buckley,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
This Heat,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.