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 Kuwait and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 the Germs to the electroclash 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Vladislav Delay,
Piero Umiliani,
Hot Snakes,
Massinfluence,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
A Certain Ratio,
Charles Mingus,
Hoover,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Clear Light,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
Chris & Cosey,
The Buckinghams,
The Searchers,
Pantytec,
Funkadelic,
Can,
Essential Logic,
Fluxion,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
The Evens,
Half Japanese,
Bill Wells,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun City Girls,
The Human League,
The Music Machine,
John Coltrane,
Ten City,
The Smoke,
Crooked Eye,
Kas Product,
Joy Division,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Electric Prunes,
K-Klass,
Chrome,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crime,
Iggy Pop,
the Association,
Funky Four + One,
Minny Pops,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nik Kershaw,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ponytail,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.