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 New Zealand and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Albert Ayler to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer 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 guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Colin Newman,
Smog,
Neu!,
Marmalade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Q and Not U,
Derrick Morgan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mission of Burma,
Zapp,
Sixth Finger,
Idris Muhammad,
James White and The Blacks,
Animal Collective,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hasil Adkins,
Cymande,
The Move,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Negative Approach,
Severed Heads,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Angels of Light,
Mo-Dettes,
Gang Gang Dance,
The United States of America,
Bobby Byrd,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Robert Görl,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grey Daturas,
The Velvet Underground,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cecil Taylor,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mark Hollis,
Pylon,
The Searchers,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
Anthony Braxton,
Faraquet,
Au Pairs,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Victims,
Bill Wells,
Todd Terry,
F. McDonald,
The Associates,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare,
Dead Boys,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.