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 Kazakhstan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Donald Byrd,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Make Up,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Misunderstood,
Deakin,
Pole,
Todd Rundgren,
Shoche,
T.S.O.L.,
Graham Central Station,
Drexciya,
The Kinks,
Eve St. Jones,
Easy Going,
F. McDonald,
Crooked Eye,
The American Breed,
PIL,
Jeff Mills,
MC5,
Susan Cadogan,
Nas,
Niagra,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Almond,
Electric Prunes,
Ossler,
Inner City,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Anthony Braxton,
Roger Hodgson,
Mr. Review,
New York Dolls,
Banda Bassotti,
Marshall Jefferson,
DJ Sneak,
Slick Rick,
The Mummies,
Bluetip,
Ken Boothe,
World's Most,
Glambeats Corp.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lakeside,
Maurizio,
Visage,
Janne Schatter,
The Saints,
Soul Sonic Force,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.