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 Jordan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Holger Czukay 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes 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 synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cowsills,
June of 44,
Porter Ricks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Desert Stars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rod Modell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amazonics,
Theoretical Girls,
Pantytec,
Second Layer,
Nirvana,
U.S. Maple,
Yellowson,
Prince Buster,
The Real Kids,
Scientists,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter and Kerry,
Tim Buckley,
Pole,
Talk Talk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
La Düsseldorf,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultra Naté,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Cale,
Pierre Henry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ronan,
John Foxx,
Sarah Menescal,
Dawn Penn,
Tom Boy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Lightning Bolt,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Görl,
Mandrill,
Adolescents,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fuzztones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Procol Harum,
The Slits,
Peter & Gordon,
Pylon,
Minor Threat,
Laurel Aitken,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fugs,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.