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 Madagascar and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tubeway Army to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a snare and a linndrum 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
The Modern Lovers,
Can,
Procol Harum,
Sparks,
David Bowie,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Martian,
The Kinks,
The Stooges,
JFA,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Knickerbockers,
The Seeds,
Desert Stars,
Khruangbin,
Pulsallama,
OOIOO,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Near,
Roxy Music,
Trumans Water,
Stereo Dub,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rhythm & Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Jawbox,
Nick Fraelich,
New Order,
Suicide,
New York Dolls,
Suburban Knight,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Visage,
John Holt,
the Sonics,
Camberwell Now,
Malaria!,
Sarah Menescal,
Dead Boys,
Y Pants,
Spandau Ballet,
Siglo XX,
Joey Negro,
The Slackers,
The Cure,
Skriet,
The Selecter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Pus,
Delta 5,
Tropical Tobacco,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Sun City Girls,
Supertramp,
Swell Maps,
Fluxion,
The Gap Band,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.