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 Sierra Leone and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Yaz to the techno 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba 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 snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
James White and The Blacks,
Bang On A Can,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Stereo Dub,
Oneida,
Tres Demented,
Eve St. Jones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sound Behaviour,
Bauhaus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Susan Cadogan,
Dark Day,
Magma,
Technova,
The Standells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Altered Images,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lou Reed,
The Residents,
Youth Brigade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
Cameo,
The Litter,
June of 44,
Robert Görl,
Rosa Yemen,
DJ Sneak,
X-Ray Spex,
The New Christs,
H. Thieme,
Quadrant,
Pussy Galore,
Silicon Teens,
Pantaleimon,
The Gories,
The Offenders,
Dead Boys,
Soul II Soul,
Mr. Review,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
Negative Approach,
Supertramp,
Buzzcocks,
Ronnie Foster,
David Bowie,
Deadbeat,
Faust,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Christie,
Reuben Wilson,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.