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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Television to the disco 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a mellotron 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 theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Charles Mingus,
Camouflage,
John Lydon,
Deepchord,
Simply Red,
Gichy Dan,
Ossler,
The Misunderstood,
The Invisible,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Sheep,
China Crisis,
Eve St. Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Circle Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Prince Buster,
Joe Smooth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tomorrow,
Harmonia,
Oneida,
The Fall,
Ohio Players,
Terrestrial Tones,
Little Man,
Lightning Bolt,
The Names,
Intrusion,
Hot Snakes,
John Coltrane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Wyatt,
Stiv Bators,
Letta Mbulu,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra,
Isaac Hayes,
Anakelly,
Kas Product,
Unrelated Segments,
Lalann,
Adolescents,
Mars,
Banda Bassotti,
Scan 7,
Jeff Mills,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Vogues,
The Fortunes,
Boz Scaggs,
The Pretty Things,
Throbbing Gristle,
Youth Brigade,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.