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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Camberwell Now,
Pussy Galore,
The Busters,
Warren Ellis,
Lucky Dragons,
The J.B.'s,
The Pretty Things,
Faraquet,
AZ,
R.M.O.,
Pantytec,
Scott Walker,
Y Pants,
Erykah Badu,
Nils Olav,
The Gories,
Metal Thangz,
Average White Band,
Deadbeat,
Derrick Morgan,
Nick Fraelich,
Parry Music,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pole,
Derrick May,
the Germs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bush Tetras,
Ossler,
Tommy Roe,
Agitation Free,
Bizarre Inc.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fugazi,
Josef K,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun City Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Flipper,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barry Ungar,
Johnny Clarke,
New Age Steppers,
DNA,
The Golliwogs,
Loose Ends,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Symarip,
The Move,
Von Mondo,
Japan,
China Crisis,
Sarah Menescal,
Mandrill,
Main Source,
Rhythm & Sound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mark Hollis,
The Invisible,
Crash Course in Science,
Oneida,
Matthew Halsall,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.