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 Korea South and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Dark Day to the funk 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mission of Burma,
Moss Icon,
Anakelly,
Trumans Water,
the Normal,
The Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Dual Sessions,
Country Teasers,
The Buckinghams,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Seeds,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moleskins,
H. Thieme,
Moebius,
Susan Cadogan,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Green,
Make Up,
the Germs,
Wasted Youth,
Nas,
Blancmange,
Banda Bassotti,
The Stooges,
Mandrill,
Vladislav Delay,
Albert Ayler,
Nik Kershaw,
Severed Heads,
The Selecter,
Iggy Pop,
The Smoke,
Marmalade,
Warren Ellis,
The Doors,
cv313,
The Pop Group,
Barclay James Harvest,
Animal Collective,
Agent Orange,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jacques Brel,
Ituana,
Terrestrial Tones,
James Chance & The Contortions,
ABBA,
Boredoms,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Toasters,
The Barracudas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sound Behaviour,
Absolute Body Control,
John Cale,
8 Eyed Spy,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.