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 Nigeria and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wings to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Patti Smith,
Blossom Toes,
The Young Rascals,
Pet Shop Boys,
PIL,
Mo-Dettes,
Bauhaus,
Thompson Twins,
The United States of America,
Eric Dolphy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eric Copeland,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barry Ungar,
Matthew Halsall,
Quando Quango,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Mummies,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Victims,
Porter Ricks,
Nas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brick,
Scratch Acid,
Rekid,
Pulsallama,
Deepchord,
Gang Starr,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Invisible,
Hardrive,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Christie,
Negative Approach,
Ornette Coleman,
Aural Exciters,
Althea and Donna,
Skarface,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABBA,
Bad Manners,
Swans,
Suicide,
The Barracudas,
Black Sheep,
The Tremeloes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Wake,
Sun Ra,
Barrington Levy,
The Pop Group,
The Blackbyrds,
Excepter,
Max Romeo,
Sonic Youth,
Tres Demented,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.