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 Nauru and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Jacques Brel to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rotary Connection,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Green,
The Blackbyrds,
Quantec,
Q65,
Circle Jerks,
Susan Cadogan,
Skarface,
R.M.O.,
Bill Wells,
Joy Division,
John Holt,
X-102,
Tropical Tobacco,
K-Klass,
X-101,
kango's stein massive,
Blake Baxter,
Kayak,
John Lydon,
Crash Course in Science,
Alton Ellis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Letta Mbulu,
KRS-One,
The Selecter,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Simply Red,
Cecil Taylor,
Technova,
Bobby Sherman,
Peter & Gordon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minutemen,
Echospace,
Fatback Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Ossler,
Franke,
Soft Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
Soulsonic Force,
The Kinks,
Juan Atkins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Al Stewart,
Ornette Coleman,
B.T. Express,
Blossom Toes,
The Smoke,
The Zeros,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quadrant,
ABC,
Hot Snakes,
Wally Richardson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.