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 France and from New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 Minnie Riperton to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sound,
Joe Finger,
Monolake,
The Count Five,
48th St. Collective,
Junior Murvin,
the Soft Cell,
Hardrive,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dark Day,
Trumans Water,
Andrew Hill,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers,
Saccharine Trust,
Fugazi,
Davy DMX,
China Crisis,
Surgeon,
Lyres,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dead C,
Laurel Aitken,
Y Pants,
Cluster,
Ronnie Foster,
Q and Not U,
Silicon Teens,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fortunes,
Audionom,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Intrusion,
The Monks,
Scientists,
Gastr Del Sol,
Japan,
Lou Reed,
Howard Jones,
Liliput,
the Association,
Danielle Patucci,
Yusef Lateef,
Toni Rubio,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
The United States of America,
June of 44,
Archie Shepp,
Sound Behaviour,
Lindisfarne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Smiths,
Minutemen,
Youth Brigade,
Rekid,
Porter Ricks,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.