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 Cambodia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Roger Hodgson,
The Skatalites,
Howard Jones,
the Sonics,
Massinfluence,
Chrome,
Kurtis Blow,
Minny Pops,
Fluxion,
Boredoms,
The Detroit Cobras,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Barracudas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Juan Atkins,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DJ Style,
Index,
Suicide,
Scan 7,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bill Near,
Excepter,
Joy Division,
The Sound,
Unwound,
Lower 48,
Bad Manners,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang Starr,
Colin Newman,
Mo-Dettes,
Sound Behaviour,
Soft Machine,
Deakin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
H. Thieme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
The United States of America,
Faraquet,
John Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Television Personalities,
The Motions,
Kas Product,
Ponytail,
Leonard Cohen,
Basic Channel,
June of 44,
Charles Mingus,
Fat Boys,
The Raincoats,
Arcadia,
Pole,
Gastr Del Sol,
cv313,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.