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 Nepal and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eli Mardock to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and an oboe 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 harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ludus,
Royal Trux,
Aaron Thompson,
The Velvet Underground,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Monks,
Kas Product,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fatback Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Lebanon Hanover,
D'Angelo,
Spandau Ballet,
Tomorrow,
Barrington Levy,
Wolf Eyes,
Delta 5,
Yaz,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Five Americans,
Susan Cadogan,
Byron Stingily,
Wire,
Eden Ahbez,
Ronan,
Slave,
Donald Byrd,
John Coltrane,
Drexciya,
Yusef Lateef,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Interpol,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
LL Cool J,
Lalann,
Wings,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Sheep,
Faust,
The Gories,
Johnny Clarke,
Mark Hollis,
A Certain Ratio,
Pole,
New Age Steppers,
Harmonia,
Dual Sessions,
Archie Shepp,
Jerry's Kids,
Lyres,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eve St. Jones,
Young Marble Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
48th St. Collective,
Pantaleimon,
Gang Green,
Brothers Johnson,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.