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 France and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sun City Girls to the funk 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Ponytail,
Qualms,
X-101,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
Pylon,
Connie Case,
Q65,
Swell Maps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gun Club,
Rosa Yemen,
Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
K-Klass,
Sonic Youth,
Moss Icon,
Fugazi,
Tears for Fears,
the Soft Cell,
The Buckinghams,
The Star Department,
Heaven 17,
Popol Vuh,
Cameo,
Sällskapet,
Model 500,
Dead Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
John Coltrane,
David McCallum,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neu!,
JFA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moebius,
Television,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sixth Finger,
Interpol,
Funkadelic,
The New Christs,
Main Source,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Womack,
Ronnie Foster,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Wake,
Pulsallama,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sound,
Mr. Review,
Amazonics,
The Move,
Glenn Branca,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.