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 Mauritania and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Juan Atkins to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slackers,
The Walker Brothers,
Dark Day,
Charles Mingus,
Wings,
Zero Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chris Corsano,
Joyce Sims,
Anthony Braxton,
Theoretical Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
DJ Style,
The Alarm Clocks,
Talk Talk,
The Fugs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-101,
Sixth Finger,
Neil Young,
The Monochrome Set,
the Swans,
Blancmange,
Qualms,
Arab on Radar,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hot Snakes,
Roger Hodgson,
OOIOO,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Holt,
Bizarre Inc.,
Surgeon,
Duran Duran,
Althea and Donna,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Music Machine,
The Vogues,
Jacques Brel,
Black Flag,
X-Ray Spex,
The Litter,
Nick Fraelich,
Sam Rivers,
Minor Threat,
The Evens,
Danielle Patucci,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Masters at Work,
Procol Harum,
Amon Düül II,
Dave Gahan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television Personalities,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Normal,
In Retrospect,
Schoolly D,
Ultravox,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.