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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar 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 Intrusion to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer 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 oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Black Flag,
Wally Richardson,
The Gladiators,
X-101,
Monks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minutemen,
David Axelrod,
Can,
Deepchord,
Byron Stingily,
The Divine Comedy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sister Nancy,
Make Up,
F. McDonald,
Sight & Sound,
Fat Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bad Manners,
Sonic Youth,
Aaron Thompson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barry Ungar,
Qualms,
Ultravox,
The American Breed,
Marvin Gaye,
Porter Ricks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Easy Going,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Nik Kershaw,
Brick,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Offenders,
Accadde A,
Malaria!,
Slave,
Das Ding,
Moebius,
Quando Quango,
The New Christs,
a-ha,
Sällskapet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New Order,
Arab on Radar,
Trumans Water,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Adolescents,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grandmaster Flash,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Danielle Patucci,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.