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 Senegal and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The United States of America to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dead C,
Severed Heads,
Surgeon,
Dual Sessions,
Juan Atkins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Martian,
The Toasters,
The Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
D'Angelo,
Wally Richardson,
Sight & Sound,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Angels of Light,
Cybotron,
The Offenders,
T. Rex,
Morten Harket,
Aloha Tigers,
Animal Collective,
Massinfluence,
Davy DMX,
Bronski Beat,
This Heat,
Jandek,
Minor Threat,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Busters,
Scan 7,
Pagans,
Susan Cadogan,
Los Fastidios,
Ludus,
Funkadelic,
Minny Pops,
Reagan Youth,
Boredoms,
Laurel Aitken,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barry Ungar,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
Khruangbin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blake Baxter,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül II,
The Names,
Thompson Twins,
Depeche Mode,
Yazoo,
Quadrant,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Monolake,
The Remains,
DNA,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.