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 Mozambique and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 T. Rex to the punk 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
The Human League,
Crash Course in Science,
Brass Construction,
New Order,
Mantronix,
Derrick May,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Move,
Simply Red,
Massinfluence,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neu!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lightning Bolt,
Popol Vuh,
The Fugs,
Cybotron,
Lou Christie,
The Mojo Men,
Thee Headcoats,
Siglo XX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
L. Decosne,
Todd Terry,
Darondo,
Jacob Miller,
Dennis Brown,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
The Beau Brummels,
Fear,
Quantec,
Lindisfarne,
The Five Americans,
The Cowsills,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hardrive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wally Richardson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Pus,
The Music Machine,
Deepchord,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Country Teasers,
Subhumans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sight & Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Goldenarms,
Nas,
The Angels of Light,
Fort Wilson Riot,
MDC,
Swell Maps,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.