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 Switzerland and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Seeds to the grime 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
Bang On A Can,
John Lydon,
Swell Maps,
Todd Terry,
The New Christs,
Glambeats Corp.,
ABC,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mummies,
The Dead C,
Sister Nancy,
The Saints,
Zero Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Brass Construction,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kas Product,
Harmonia,
Bizarre Inc.,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
Banda Bassotti,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young,
Morten Harket,
Todd Rundgren,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Don Cherry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Heaven 17,
Gong,
Lightning Bolt,
Skaos,
Roger Hodgson,
Kayak,
the Association,
Man Parrish,
China Crisis,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Reagan Youth,
kango's stein massive,
Rakim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Godley & Creme,
Pantaleimon,
Colin Newman,
Average White Band,
Procol Harum,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roy Ayers,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.