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 Pakistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Gang Starr to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a rhodes 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 theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Tom Boy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Technova,
Robert Wyatt,
Fluxion,
The Fuzztones,
Matthew Bourne,
The Birthday Party,
Faraquet,
Qualms,
Dead Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Monks,
Funkadelic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
U.S. Maple,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kerri Chandler,
Lyres,
DJ Sneak,
David Axelrod,
Suburban Knight,
Reagan Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Infiniti,
Sixth Finger,
Magma,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rufus Thomas,
Skaos,
World's Most,
The Knickerbockers,
UT,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Leonard Cohen,
the Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
AZ,
Radiohead,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camouflage,
Eric Copeland,
Grauzone,
The Moody Blues,
Ultra Naté,
Silicon Teens,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cecil Taylor,
The Busters,
Funky Four + One,
Eve St. Jones,
T.S.O.L.,
Ituana,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.