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 Armenia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Stereo Dub to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord 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 linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
Oneida,
The Monochrome Set,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Funky Four + One,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacob Miller,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Bar-Kays,
Suicide,
The Beau Brummels,
China Crisis,
Banda Bassotti,
Spoonie Gee,
Khruangbin,
the Association,
Idris Muhammad,
H. Thieme,
The Searchers,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Moebius,
Susan Cadogan,
The Wake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barrington Levy,
Bronski Beat,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare,
John Lydon,
F. McDonald,
The Move,
John Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Man Parrish,
Blossom Toes,
Toni Rubio,
Mandrill,
The Star Department,
FM Einheit,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dead C,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Niagra,
Soft Cell,
Porter Ricks,
Yusef Lateef,
Newcleus,
Ohio Players,
Marine Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wire,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.