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 United States and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 Scratch Acid to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Massinfluence,
kango's stein massive,
The Martian,
Sun Ra,
Davy DMX,
Nas,
Cybotron,
Peter & Gordon,
Sonic Youth,
Deadbeat,
Unrelated Segments,
Monolake,
The Gladiators,
Moby Grape,
Crash Course in Science,
Slave,
June of 44,
The Smiths,
Lalann,
The Happenings,
The Birthday Party,
Pylon,
Pere Ubu,
Unwound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Procol Harum,
Kool Moe Dee,
Malaria!,
Dennis Brown,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Surgeon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Charles Mingus,
The Velvet Underground,
Electric Prunes,
Second Layer,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Swans,
Rekid,
Lou Christie,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wasted Youth,
The Slits,
Neu!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harmonia,
Echospace,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker,
Inner City,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Raincoats,
Peter and Kerry,
Cecil Taylor,
Moss Icon,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.