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 Uzbekistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 Technova to the rap 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
48th St. Collective,
Don Cherry,
Charles Mingus,
Scott Walker,
Faust,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare,
Flipper,
The Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
The Smiths,
Janne Schatter,
Con Funk Shun,
Liliput,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Bananas,
Bush Tetras,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
Parry Music,
Crash Course in Science,
Michelle Simonal,
K-Klass,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
The Standells,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Television,
The Wake,
CMW,
Khruangbin,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
Scion,
Pussy Galore,
Joe Finger,
The Sonics,
Guru Guru,
Gichy Dan,
Franke,
Goldenarms,
Severed Heads,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
Bobby Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
Eric Copeland,
The Young Rascals,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
X-Ray Spex,
Absolute Body Control,
Au Pairs,
MC5,
Sugar Minott,
Main Source,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.