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 Venezuela and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Mummies to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare 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 oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
The Saints,
D'Angelo,
Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Swans,
Idris Muhammad,
The Evens,
Radiopuhelimet,
Funkadelic,
Josef K,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tom Boy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Vainqueur,
Agent Orange,
Saccharine Trust,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Liliput,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mandrill,
a-ha,
This Heat,
The Happenings,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gabor Szabo,
Desert Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
Alice Coltrane,
Sound Behaviour,
Kayak,
Scion,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
the Human League,
E-Dancer,
Black Moon,
Con Funk Shun,
The Five Americans,
Mo-Dettes,
Drexciya,
Chris & Cosey,
The Slackers,
David McCallum,
Intrusion,
John Coltrane,
Crash Course in Science,
The Techniques,
The Velvet Underground,
The Index,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Davy DMX,
OOIOO,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.