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 Chile and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Scratch Acid to the rap 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Audionom,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terry Callier,
Moby Grape,
Adolescents,
Radiohead,
the Bar-Kays,
Fad Gadget,
Mad Mike,
Talk Talk,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare,
Little Man,
Cluster,
Sun City Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magazine,
Crooked Eye,
Carl Craig,
Sister Nancy,
Bush Tetras,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Alton Ellis,
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
Brass Construction,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bad Manners,
Pylon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soft Machine,
X-102,
Eurythmics,
Magma,
Maleditus Sound,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mantronix,
Tears for Fears,
Monolake,
Second Layer,
Can,
Kayak,
Erasure,
Minny Pops,
Aural Exciters,
Brothers Johnson,
Icehouse,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
Glenn Branca,
The Fuzztones,
Stetsasonic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flash Fearless,
Jeff Lynne,
LL Cool J,
Interpol,
Iggy Pop,
Scrapy,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.