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 Peru and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the rap 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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar 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 rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hoover,
Absolute Body Control,
The Index,
Make Up,
Crime,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Circle Jerks,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Associates,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Connie Case,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Move,
Ossler,
The Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The J.B.'s,
Rakim,
Con Funk Shun,
MC5,
Eddi Front,
The Cramps,
David Bowie,
The Blackbyrds,
Sandy B,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Names,
Guru Guru,
Marmalade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Flag,
UT,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sight & Sound,
Jandek,
Dave Gahan,
Outsiders,
Negative Approach,
The Stooges,
Minor Threat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Archie Shepp,
Ken Boothe,
Icehouse,
Ice-T,
Qualms,
Khruangbin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Moleskins,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.