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 Mauritania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ornette Coleman to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer 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 güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
The Flesh Eaters,
New Age Steppers,
Suicide,
The Moody Blues,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Index,
Gang Green,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Delon & Dalcan,
Ohio Players,
Derrick May,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gong,
Anthony Braxton,
Skaos,
Wolf Eyes,
Piero Umiliani,
Crooked Eye,
Rakim,
Wasted Youth,
Yaz,
Sixth Finger,
Lakeside,
Kerri Chandler,
Pussy Galore,
John Lydon,
Monks,
Accadde A,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Swell Maps,
Ice-T,
Neu!,
Funkadelic,
Model 500,
Rotary Connection,
Fatback Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Make Up,
Sam Rivers,
The Electric Prunes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gichy Dan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aswad,
MC5,
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
Scion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Technova,
the Soft Cell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The New Christs,
Terry Callier,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra,
John Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blossom Toes,
Black Sheep,
Sight & Sound,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.