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 Colombia and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Hasil Adkins to the grime 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord 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 rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Audionom,
Altered Images,
Dave Gahan,
Kurtis Blow,
Mo-Dettes,
The J.B.'s,
Lower 48,
Swell Maps,
The Red Krayola,
Warsaw,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yazoo,
Motorama,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fire Engines,
Section 25,
Television Personalities,
The Mighty Diamonds,
June Days,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Count Five,
The Motions,
Sam Rivers,
The Sonics,
Todd Terry,
EPMD,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Offenders,
Infiniti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Real Kids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Seeds,
Glambeats Corp.,
Anakelly,
Magazine,
The American Breed,
The Kinks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash,
Livin' Joy,
Gang Starr,
World's Most,
Minnie Riperton,
Siglo XX,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Urselle,
Magma,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Fania All-Stars,
Davy DMX,
The Busters,
Yusef Lateef,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.