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 Cape Verde and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Cal Tjader to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ludus,
World's Most,
Moby Grape,
Suicide,
Warsaw,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Red Krayola,
Echospace,
Ponytail,
The Buckinghams,
Susan Cadogan,
Rapeman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
T. Rex,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hoover,
Arab on Radar,
Blossom Toes,
Hardrive,
48th St. Collective,
New York Dolls,
Inner City,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
Livin' Joy,
Monolake,
T.S.O.L.,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Sheep,
Robert Görl,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Grass Roots,
Stetsasonic,
The Star Department,
cv313,
The Busters,
Isaac Hayes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Searchers,
Cecil Taylor,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jesper Dahlback,
Section 25,
The Tremeloes,
The Residents,
Bob Dylan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Parrish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
China Crisis,
Davy DMX,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Circle Jerks,
Lyres,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.