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 Indonesia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the jazz 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin 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 organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moebius,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Main Source,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Second Layer,
Sixth Finger,
Soul II Soul,
Eric Dolphy,
Visage,
The Cramps,
Fela Kuti,
James White and The Blacks,
the Bar-Kays,
Mark Hollis,
Oneida,
Darondo,
Pantytec,
Black Moon,
Roger Hodgson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Easy Going,
Quadrant,
Brand Nubian,
Barry Ungar,
Qualms,
Anthony Braxton,
Vainqueur,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
Rakim,
Fatback Band,
Severed Heads,
Chris Corsano,
Wally Richardson,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rekid,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harmonia,
The Durutti Column,
Tubeway Army,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Electric Prunes,
Pylon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bad Manners,
a-ha,
Eli Mardock,
Youth Brigade,
Peter and Kerry,
Mars,
Aural Exciters,
Joe Finger,
The Pop Group,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.