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 Malta and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scientists to the jazz 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar 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 chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Skarface,
R.M.O.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
JFA,
Man Parrish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mission of Burma,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Danielle Patucci,
Blossom Toes,
Von Mondo,
Patti Smith,
Marc Almond,
Radio Birdman,
the Human League,
The Dave Clark Five,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fuzztones,
Dual Sessions,
Prince Buster,
Arcadia,
Minny Pops,
Quando Quango,
It's A Beautiful Day,
KRS-One,
Television Personalities,
The Barracudas,
Ice-T,
Dave Gahan,
Severed Heads,
Rakim,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Selecter,
10cc,
The Blackbyrds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Reed,
Clear Light,
Black Pus,
The Velvet Underground,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Suburban Knight,
Kayak,
Nirvana,
Malaria!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Coltrane,
Todd Terry,
Smog,
Hardrive,
Scott Walker,
Flipper,
Kenny Larkin,
The Martian,
Slick Rick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.