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 El Salvador and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the crunk 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Martian,
Slave,
Magma,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nico,
Lou Christie,
T.S.O.L.,
Wolf Eyes,
Porter Ricks,
Scan 7,
Danielle Patucci,
The Count Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Television,
Ten City,
48th St. Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Funky Four + One,
Symarip,
The Toasters,
Graham Central Station,
Lungfish,
Hot Snakes,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scientists,
The Trojans,
Carl Craig,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Young Marble Giants,
Qualms,
Easy Going,
Lower 48,
Brass Construction,
Flipper,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Flag,
Blake Baxter,
The Young Rascals,
Eric Dolphy,
Von Mondo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mantronix,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Altered Images,
New Age Steppers,
Organ,
Yazoo,
The Modern Lovers,
The Names,
The Gap Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camouflage,
Soul Sonic Force,
Suburban Knight,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.