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 Cape Verde and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bauhaus to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Quadrant,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sugar Minott,
Erykah Badu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mad Mike,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacob Miller,
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
the Bar-Kays,
Eve St. Jones,
Judy Mowatt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Skatalites,
DNA,
Cal Tjader,
In Retrospect,
Davy DMX,
Sun City Girls,
Mission of Burma,
Soft Machine,
Roger Hodgson,
Faraquet,
Surgeon,
Rotary Connection,
Magazine,
Bang On A Can,
Ultra Naté,
Gang of Four,
The Doors,
Schoolly D,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dark Day,
David Axelrod,
the Human League,
Mary Jane Girls,
Public Enemy,
The Beau Brummels,
Shuggie Otis,
Negative Approach,
Arab on Radar,
the Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marvin Gaye,
The Angels of Light,
Crispian St. Peters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fatback Band,
Reagan Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Normal,
Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
Circle Jerks,
Ice-T,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.