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 Iraq and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gang Starr 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Technova,
The Dirtbombs,
Kaleidoscope,
Eurythmics,
China Crisis,
Cameo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Birthday Party,
The Grass Roots,
Prince Buster,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Faust,
Tomorrow,
Michelle Simonal,
Country Teasers,
Lungfish,
Alton Ellis,
Kerri Chandler,
Babytalk,
Sex Pistols,
CMW,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultravox,
X-Ray Spex,
Model 500,
Stiv Bators,
Bauhaus,
Tears for Fears,
the Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Goldenarms,
Brass Construction,
Derrick May,
Kerrie Biddell,
Infiniti,
Angry Samoans,
Girls At Our Best!,
The United States of America,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Von Mondo,
Reuben Wilson,
Eve St. Jones,
The Skatalites,
Accadde A,
Ralphi Rosario,
Todd Terry,
Q and Not U,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Arab on Radar,
Lower 48,
ABBA,
Little Man,
Mantronix,
Rod Modell,
Quantec,
Theoretical Girls,
Brick,
Charles Mingus,
Reagan Youth,
June of 44,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.