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 Mauritius and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Pus,
The Mojo Men,
Erasure,
Hashim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gabor Szabo,
The Divine Comedy,
Carl Craig,
The Cure,
Dark Day,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Smog,
Barry Ungar,
Sparks,
June of 44,
Aural Exciters,
The Music Machine,
This Heat,
Ken Boothe,
Fad Gadget,
Eli Mardock,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cramps,
the Germs,
Ten City,
Monolake,
OOIOO,
Hardrive,
Wally Richardson,
Whodini,
Subhumans,
Glenn Branca,
Michelle Simonal,
Pantaleimon,
Mo-Dettes,
Scientists,
Brand Nubian,
Cecil Taylor,
The Leaves,
Bill Near,
Ludus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeff Lynne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Arthur Verocai,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ornette Coleman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Coltrane,
Rapeman,
Livin' Joy,
Marmalade,
Bush Tetras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker,
Wasted Youth,
The Martian,
The Velvet Underground,
Barrington Levy,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.