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 Egypt and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Accadde A to the electroclash 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Maurizio,
Gong,
Scientists,
kango's stein massive,
Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
the Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Technova,
Heaven 17,
Matthew Bourne,
Alphaville,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fugazi,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deadbeat,
Second Layer,
CMW,
Susan Cadogan,
Chrome,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacques Brel,
Trumans Water,
The Fire Engines,
The Pretty Things,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donald Byrd,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roger Hodgson,
Carl Craig,
Black Flag,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harmonia,
Monolake,
Black Moon,
Crispian St. Peters,
48th St. Collective,
Stiv Bators,
Dawn Penn,
Fatback Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Babytalk,
Isaac Hayes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stereo Dub,
Saccharine Trust,
Subhumans,
Japan,
Connie Case,
Tim Buckley,
Lungfish,
the Association,
Lalann,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang of Four,
Chris Corsano,
Schoolly D,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.