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 Albania and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 J.B.'s to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer 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 theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Essential Logic,
The Pop Group,
Ossler,
Crooked Eye,
Jacob Miller,
Camouflage,
Ice-T,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funky Four + One,
Sugar Minott,
Porter Ricks,
Angry Samoans,
Hoover,
Mr. Review,
The Barracudas,
Michelle Simonal,
Anthony Braxton,
Cheater Slicks,
Scrapy,
cv313,
Deakin,
Circle Jerks,
48th St. Collective,
Tears for Fears,
Aural Exciters,
Skriet,
Glenn Branca,
Nico,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Shoche,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Green,
Tom Boy,
The Smiths,
Bill Near,
X-102,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Five Americans,
Magazine,
The Move,
This Heat,
Judy Mowatt,
OOIOO,
The Buckinghams,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Halsall,
Erasure,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Fatback Band,
Zapp,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
T.S.O.L.,
These Immortal Souls,
Ohio Players,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.