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 Venezuela and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Sherman to the crunk 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 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 guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Ice-T,
Maurizio,
The Mummies,
The Birthday Party,
Jacob Miller,
The Misunderstood,
Skaos,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Qualms,
The Residents,
OOIOO,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Godley & Creme,
Robert Hood,
Jandek,
Newcleus,
The Moody Blues,
Delta 5,
Erykah Badu,
Black Bananas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Prince Buster,
Heaven 17,
The Knickerbockers,
Khruangbin,
Shuggie Otis,
This Heat,
Excepter,
the Bar-Kays,
Brand Nubian,
Public Image Ltd.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mars,
Malaria!,
Surgeon,
Oneida,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Evens,
Tres Demented,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yazoo,
Cameo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sparks,
FM Einheit,
Thee Headcoats,
Ken Boothe,
Flipper,
Robert Görl,
the Human League,
MC5,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yellowson,
Unwound,
Bootsy Collins,
Cybotron,
The Golliwogs,
Ultravox,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.