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 Bahrain and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sexual Harrassment to the disco 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Hashim,
Technova,
The Gladiators,
MDC,
Groovy Waters,
Sällskapet,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed,
Symarip,
Cheater Slicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Oneida,
Fatback Band,
a-ha,
Andrew Hill,
Newcleus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Youth Brigade,
Buzzcocks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
New Age Steppers,
Toni Rubio,
Bob Dylan,
Rosa Yemen,
Danielle Patucci,
Cal Tjader,
Steve Hackett,
Barbara Tucker,
The Human League,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Red Krayola,
The Names,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scion,
John Lydon,
Sparks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Davy DMX,
Talk Talk,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gil Scott Heron,
Idris Muhammad,
Dark Day,
Byron Stingily,
The Cure,
Wasted Youth,
The Misunderstood,
R.M.O.,
Interpol,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.