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 Mongolia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Y Pants to the techno 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes 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 mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Moss Icon,
Little Man,
The Grass Roots,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare,
Agent Orange,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fugazi,
L. Decosne,
Soft Cell,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Halsall,
Electric Prunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-101,
Lyres,
Smog,
Depeche Mode,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeff Lynne,
Agitation Free,
Sun City Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Marine Girls,
Gang of Four,
Chris Corsano,
Interpol,
Nils Olav,
Whodini,
Bootsy Collins,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gories,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faraquet,
Yusef Lateef,
The Knickerbockers,
Outsiders,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
The Velvet Underground,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brothers Johnson,
Terry Callier,
Magazine,
Mission of Burma,
Quadrant,
Public Image Ltd.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lebanon Hanover,
Procol Harum,
Scientists,
Lakeside,
UT,
Youth Brigade,
Rites of Spring,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bush Tetras,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.