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 Tuvalu and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar 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 snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cymande,
Marmalade,
The Sonics,
The Litter,
Derrick Morgan,
Newcleus,
Derrick May,
Bootsy Collins,
Ronnie Foster,
These Immortal Souls,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Move,
Dave Gahan,
Barrington Levy,
Neu!,
Lungfish,
Moby Grape,
Rosa Yemen,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Piero Umiliani,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
Warsaw,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Funkadelic,
Althea and Donna,
Arthur Verocai,
Angry Samoans,
Deakin,
Gang Starr,
The Busters,
Metal Thangz,
Alton Ellis,
Ultra Naté,
Bill Near,
Gerry Rafferty,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Niagra,
The Selecter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radiohead,
Todd Terry,
Symarip,
Black Pus,
Eurythmics,
Electric Prunes,
Zero Boys,
Simply Red,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
F. McDonald,
La Düsseldorf,
Wolf Eyes,
Interpol,
Judy Mowatt,
Funky Four + One,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.