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 Russia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare 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 Sällskapet to the electroclash 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pagans,
Little Man,
Eve St. Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
The United States of America,
Scan 7,
The Evens,
Depeche Mode,
Pole,
Panda Bear,
Mandrill,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Suicide,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Mills,
Chris & Cosey,
The Move,
Faraquet,
James White and The Blacks,
The Electric Prunes,
FM Einheit,
DJ Style,
Aural Exciters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Standells,
Ornette Coleman,
Rufus Thomas,
Angry Samoans,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pop Group,
David Bowie,
Dark Day,
Hasil Adkins,
Joyce Sims,
Charles Mingus,
The Wake,
Shoche,
Eli Mardock,
Minnie Riperton,
Janne Schatter,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Techniques,
Magazine,
Circle Jerks,
Radiohead,
Theoretical Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Angels of Light,
Neu!,
Bobby Womack,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bush Tetras,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.