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 Belize and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Ralphi Rosario to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer 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 All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Henry Cow,
The Fortunes,
Quando Quango,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Monochrome Set,
the Bar-Kays,
the Association,
Spandau Ballet,
Motorama,
Blancmange,
Jeff Lynne,
E-Dancer,
Roy Ayers,
Minnie Riperton,
Deadbeat,
Outsiders,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lou Reed,
Darondo,
Desert Stars,
Make Up,
Robert Hood,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nick Fraelich,
Delta 5,
The Red Krayola,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sam Rivers,
The Searchers,
R.M.O.,
The Angels of Light,
a-ha,
Moby Grape,
Rites of Spring,
David Axelrod,
Nik Kershaw,
Colin Newman,
Erasure,
the Sonics,
June of 44,
Echospace,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mission of Burma,
Blake Baxter,
Slick Rick,
Parry Music,
Zapp,
Marc Almond,
DJ Sneak,
These Immortal Souls,
This Heat,
Cybotron,
Hoover,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultravox,
Brand Nubian,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pylon,
Pet Shop Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.