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 Bolivia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Babytalk,
Ornette Coleman,
Brick,
Massinfluence,
Amon Düül II,
Leonard Cohen,
Sex Pistols,
Tomorrow,
The Smiths,
Junior Murvin,
Alton Ellis,
Warren Ellis,
Don Cherry,
Mad Mike,
Motorama,
Zapp,
Magazine,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Interpol,
8 Eyed Spy,
Faraquet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Japan,
Josef K,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bush Tetras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sarah Menescal,
Zero Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Blake Baxter,
Thee Headcoats,
Howard Jones,
The Golliwogs,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moby Grape,
Prince Buster,
Dead Boys,
Slick Rick,
The Seeds,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Hill,
David McCallum,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fuzztones,
the Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Evens,
The Kinks,
The Saints,
Infiniti,
Rosa Yemen,
Dave Gahan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DJ Style,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Sällskapet,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ludus,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.