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 Brazil and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nation of Ulysses to the disco 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Tim Buckley,
R.M.O.,
Monks,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Urselle,
The Grass Roots,
Con Funk Shun,
Shuggie Otis,
Slave,
The Litter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Reagan Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
Fluxion,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pierre Henry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brick,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultra Naté,
Warren Ellis,
The Vogues,
Blancmange,
The American Breed,
Drexciya,
the Soft Cell,
The Skatalites,
Crash Course in Science,
Reuben Wilson,
Sam Rivers,
Godley & Creme,
Von Mondo,
Organ,
ABBA,
The Star Department,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Michelle Simonal,
Television Personalities,
The Happenings,
Khruangbin,
Lalann,
F. McDonald,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Visage,
John Foxx,
Second Layer,
Freddie Wadling,
Talk Talk,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express,
June Days,
Pharoah Sanders,
Don Cherry,
PIL,
the Swans,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.