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 Macedonia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Nico to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin 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 rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
DJ Sneak,
Index,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
Ituana,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
B.T. Express,
Q and Not U,
Negative Approach,
Judy Mowatt,
Gong,
Juan Atkins,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Henry Cow,
Symarip,
The Evens,
Dawn Penn,
The Litter,
Nas,
Ponytail,
Lou Christie,
R.M.O.,
Scrapy,
Steve Hackett,
Shoche,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Associates,
Suicide,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
In Retrospect,
June Days,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed,
AZ,
F. McDonald,
Popol Vuh,
Bill Near,
Vladislav Delay,
Radiohead,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Absolute Body Control,
Graham Central Station,
Fatback Band,
Lower 48,
Spandau Ballet,
A Certain Ratio,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Goldenarms,
ABC,
Rapeman,
Desert Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bootsy Collins,
Chris Corsano,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.