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 Lebanon and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Yellowson to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
Marmalade,
MC5,
DJ Sneak,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Pus,
Flipper,
Bang On A Can,
Pierre Henry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Moody Blues,
Erasure,
Lindisfarne,
Soulsonic Force,
June of 44,
Sun City Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Marine Girls,
Yaz,
Anthony Braxton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cramps,
Organ,
Silicon Teens,
Siglo XX,
Yellowson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Whodini,
The Happenings,
Bob Dylan,
Barry Ungar,
La Düsseldorf,
Swans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sex Pistols,
Althea and Donna,
Albert Ayler,
Yazoo,
cv313,
Quando Quango,
the Swans,
Loose Ends,
Roxy Music,
Blancmange,
Jacob Miller,
Alison Limerick,
Lightning Bolt,
Buzzcocks,
Radio Birdman,
Minutemen,
Delta 5,
Animal Collective,
Aural Exciters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Los Fastidios,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Searchers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.