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 Iran and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 Radio Birdman to the jazz 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a guitar 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Pylon,
In Retrospect,
Black Sheep,
Steve Hackett,
Faraquet,
Banda Bassotti,
Yusef Lateef,
Ken Boothe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
OOIOO,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
L. Decosne,
Babytalk,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scientists,
Con Funk Shun,
Y Pants,
Hoover,
Fear,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sun City Girls,
Nils Olav,
Index,
Depeche Mode,
the Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barry Ungar,
Parry Music,
Quantec,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dave Gahan,
UT,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cure,
Brand Nubian,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aural Exciters,
The Blackbyrds,
Davy DMX,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joey Negro,
The Barracudas,
Charles Mingus,
Skaos,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gap Band,
Pussy Galore,
Thee Headcoats,
Severed Heads,
Oblivians,
Rites of Spring,
The Residents,
Lakeside,
Matthew Halsall,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.