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 Hungary and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Severed Heads to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a güiro 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 sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Kurtis Blow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erykah Badu,
Young Marble Giants,
The Last Poets,
The Toasters,
The Evens,
Joensuu 1685,
Quando Quango,
Sarah Menescal,
Brick,
Letta Mbulu,
Zero Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lakeside,
Bluetip,
Laurel Aitken,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sparks,
FM Einheit,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Newcleus,
Schoolly D,
Henry Cow,
This Heat,
Gong,
One Last Wish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Doors,
Max Romeo,
Neil Young,
Dave Gahan,
Iggy Pop,
Joe Finger,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Anakelly,
Alice Coltrane,
Mission of Burma,
The Pretty Things,
Pole,
World's Most,
EPMD,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cybotron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Colin Newman,
Animal Collective,
Simply Red,
Juan Atkins,
June Days,
Jacob Miller,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sonic Youth,
Terry Callier,
Subhumans,
Nils Olav,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Music Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.