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 Sierra Leone and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Black Flag to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ 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 chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
The Divine Comedy,
Goldenarms,
Duran Duran,
Roger Hodgson,
Crash Course in Science,
the Fania All-Stars,
LL Cool J,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rekid,
Pussy Galore,
Lee Hazlewood,
The New Christs,
Ultra Naté,
Anakelly,
June of 44,
Radiohead,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Moon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Litter,
The Techniques,
Tim Buckley,
Jacob Miller,
Slick Rick,
Lightning Bolt,
Buzzcocks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Derrick Morgan,
Andrew Hill,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grauzone,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marc Almond,
The Blues Magoos,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cheater Slicks,
Yazoo,
The Dirtbombs,
Altered Images,
Thompson Twins,
Loose Ends,
Yusef Lateef,
Faraquet,
Archie Shepp,
Skriet,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reagan Youth,
The Gap Band,
Mark Hollis,
Magma,
The Misunderstood,
Public Enemy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.