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 Singapore and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron 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 The Golliwogs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin 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 organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Cale,
Soul Sonic Force,
Organ,
Glambeats Corp.,
Heaven 17,
Half Japanese,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Can,
The Smoke,
Peter & Gordon,
Toni Rubio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Don Cherry,
Minutemen,
Crash Course in Science,
World's Most,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mary Jane Girls,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Black Sheep,
K-Klass,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Albert Ayler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Silicon Teens,
Prince Buster,
Eddi Front,
Spoonie Gee,
The Music Machine,
The Vogues,
The Move,
Vladislav Delay,
The Seeds,
Main Source,
Sex Pistols,
Grey Daturas,
Trumans Water,
LL Cool J,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rufus Thomas,
The Black Dice,
In Retrospect,
The Remains,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Country Teasers,
Ronnie Foster,
Bizarre Inc.,
Smog,
Royal Trux,
The Misunderstood,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.