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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Khruangbin to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron 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 spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blake Baxter,
Whodini,
The Selecter,
Scientists,
The Human League,
Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Make Up,
The Gun Club,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
B.T. Express,
Erykah Badu,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Mojo Men,
Nico,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Susan Cadogan,
Swell Maps,
Ronan,
MDC,
Underground Resistance,
Toni Rubio,
Jeff Lynne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ten City,
Judy Mowatt,
Pagans,
Lyres,
Junior Murvin,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Style,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Trojans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Max Romeo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Techniques,
The Litter,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed,
Joe Finger,
Newcleus,
The Fugs,
Bobby Sherman,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gories,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang of Four,
Mantronix,
Organ,
The Evens,
The Dirtbombs,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.