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 Czech Republic and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Last Poets to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet 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 oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Susan Cadogan,
Brick,
Tommy Roe,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Depeche Mode,
Los Fastidios,
Pantytec,
Bill Wells,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brand Nubian,
Ronan,
Saccharine Trust,
Con Funk Shun,
Grandmaster Flash,
Electric Prunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Gong,
Television,
The Divine Comedy,
Alison Limerick,
Franke,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Wake,
Wolf Eyes,
Gichy Dan,
Roger Hodgson,
Visage,
MDC,
Amazonics,
Graham Central Station,
MC5,
The Monks,
The Durutti Column,
Joy Division,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Selecter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magma,
Drexciya,
Don Cherry,
Lalann,
The Modern Lovers,
The Remains,
The Fire Engines,
Scrapy,
Sällskapet,
Vainqueur,
Ultravox,
Mars,
Circle Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
The Raincoats,
The Birthday Party,
Hardrive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.