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 Tunisia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Rufus Thomas to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rufus Thomas,
Pierre Henry,
AZ,
Fat Boys,
Minny Pops,
Alison Limerick,
Main Source,
Rapeman,
The Residents,
Charles Mingus,
Man Parrish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Visage,
Eric Copeland,
Symarip,
Derrick Morgan,
John Foxx,
Ken Boothe,
Soft Cell,
Mantronix,
Electric Prunes,
Anthony Braxton,
Youth Brigade,
Yazoo,
Oblivians,
Television,
Accadde A,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Germs,
Grauzone,
June of 44,
ABBA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris & Cosey,
Mo-Dettes,
Half Japanese,
Second Layer,
Guru Guru,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Franke,
the Normal,
Spoonie Gee,
Drexciya,
These Immortal Souls,
Graham Central Station,
Freddie Wadling,
Scott Walker,
The Toasters,
Slick Rick,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Misunderstood,
Janne Schatter,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.