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 Ethiopia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 K-Klass to the grunge 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin 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 oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Shoche,
The Residents,
Bluetip,
Toni Rubio,
Massinfluence,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
Piero Umiliani,
Skarface,
Pagans,
Wire,
The Grass Roots,
Maleditus Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
E-Dancer,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cure,
Soft Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
Quantec,
Yazoo,
Scion,
Organ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Swans,
Harry Pussy,
Sandy B,
The Barracudas,
The Beau Brummels,
The Kinks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Japan,
Gong,
Lightning Bolt,
Sight & Sound,
Can,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Alice Coltrane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Copeland,
Kas Product,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scratch Acid,
The Raincoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Normal,
the Sonics,
Zapp,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
Rites of Spring,
Agitation Free,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wally Richardson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hoover,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.