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 Vietnam and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Silicon Teens to the punk 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
The Mummies,
Gabor Szabo,
Suicide,
The Five Americans,
The Birthday Party,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cymande,
Chris & Cosey,
Roxy Music,
Procol Harum,
Deadbeat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Bananas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Technova,
Bauhaus,
Half Japanese,
Albert Ayler,
T.S.O.L.,
JFA,
Warsaw,
Robert Görl,
Peter and Kerry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cecil Taylor,
Moby Grape,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Lynne,
Jeff Mills,
David McCallum,
Young Marble Giants,
Parry Music,
Sound Behaviour,
Tom Boy,
The Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
Ultra Naté,
The Dead C,
Jesper Dahlback,
Clear Light,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Hood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smiths,
Mad Mike,
Malaria!,
Soft Machine,
Charles Mingus,
The Toasters,
The Sonics,
Groovy Waters,
Tears for Fears,
Sällskapet,
Kas Product,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jacob Miller,
Marcia Griffiths,
Animal Collective,
Marc Almond,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.