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 Turkey and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Beau Brummels to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Shuggie Otis,
Average White Band,
The Standells,
Make Up,
Jeff Mills,
The Monks,
The Remains,
Arcadia,
Roxette,
Davy DMX,
Television,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Finger,
Pantytec,
The Cramps,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Pretty Things,
Dave Gahan,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Masters at Work,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sex Pistols,
Pere Ubu,
The Count Five,
Agitation Free,
AZ,
the Human League,
Quadrant,
Arthur Verocai,
Cameo,
The Saints,
New Age Steppers,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Flag,
Joensuu 1685,
Agent Orange,
The Mummies,
Gabor Szabo,
Amon Düül II,
Kas Product,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare,
Marvin Gaye,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Johnny Clarke,
The Gladiators,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aaron Thompson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.