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 Mozambique and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Offenders to the punk 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord 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 oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Fire Engines,
Dead Boys,
Deakin,
The Move,
Silicon Teens,
Ultravox,
Maleditus Sound,
Interpol,
Infiniti,
Chris & Cosey,
Robert Görl,
Glenn Branca,
The Seeds,
Erykah Badu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Banda Bassotti,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick Morgan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Adolescents,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Holt,
Kenny Larkin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bang On A Can,
Mandrill,
The Mummies,
The Flesh Eaters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bauhaus,
Das Ding,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Gang Dance,
Godley & Creme,
Youth Brigade,
Rufus Thomas,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Vogues,
These Immortal Souls,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Wake,
Unwound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ituana,
Pussy Galore,
Average White Band,
MC5,
Joy Division,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arab on Radar,
Joey Negro,
Mad Mike,
Leonard Cohen,
The Durutti Column,
Pantaleimon,
Altered Images,
Massinfluence,
Tubeway Army,
Chris Corsano,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.