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 Guatemala and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crooked Eye to the disco 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
The Neon Judgement,
Faraquet,
Oblivians,
June of 44,
Agent Orange,
Max Romeo,
the Swans,
Buzzcocks,
Jacob Miller,
Intrusion,
Rekid,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter and Kerry,
Dark Day,
One Last Wish,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dead C,
the Fania All-Stars,
D'Angelo,
The Real Kids,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pierre Henry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smoke,
Connie Case,
L. Decosne,
These Immortal Souls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Birthday Party,
UT,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jerry's Kids,
H. Thieme,
Wire,
The Searchers,
Supertramp,
Rod Modell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
kango's stein massive,
Monolake,
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eurythmics,
La Düsseldorf,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Bananas,
Brothers Johnson,
Babytalk,
The Golliwogs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pussy Galore,
Tommy Roe,
Mandrill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Reed,
The Selecter,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.