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 Kenya and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lungfish to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator 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 All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Halsall,
Marshall Jefferson,
R.M.O.,
June Days,
Fatback Band,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers,
Yellowson,
Iggy Pop,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Buckinghams,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tears for Fears,
A Flock of Seagulls,
AZ,
Cal Tjader,
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
Moebius,
Dawn Penn,
Barrington Levy,
Soft Machine,
Bauhaus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deakin,
Dave Gahan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Siglo XX,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Almond,
K-Klass,
Charles Mingus,
The Sound,
Sun City Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
PIL,
Smog,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Sonics,
Bronski Beat,
ABC,
Banda Bassotti,
The Offenders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultravox,
F. McDonald,
The Victims,
The Moody Blues,
These Immortal Souls,
Talk Talk,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.