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 Copenhagen.
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 Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Porter Ricks to the techno 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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Brothers Johnson,
Monks,
Scott Walker,
The Slackers,
Pantaleimon,
John Coltrane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Siglo XX,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Alison Limerick,
The Red Krayola,
Cameo,
Hardrive,
Gabor Szabo,
Kurtis Blow,
Radiohead,
Jacob Miller,
The Gladiators,
D'Angelo,
The Leaves,
Derrick May,
Minor Threat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Real Kids,
Ronnie Foster,
Rekid,
Soft Machine,
The Modern Lovers,
Oneida,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
This Heat,
Supertramp,
Anakelly,
Surgeon,
T.S.O.L.,
Quantec,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bill Wells,
The Count Five,
Scion,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brand Nubian,
Lightning Bolt,
The Names,
Arab on Radar,
June Days,
Interpol,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Technova,
Gang of Four,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Johnny Clarke,
Magazine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dave Gahan,
Glenn Branca,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.