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 Syria and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Country Teasers to the dance 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bush Tetras,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Mills,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wire,
The Last Poets,
Mantronix,
K-Klass,
Aloha Tigers,
Malaria!,
Index,
This Heat,
Suicide,
Ossler,
Subhumans,
Sun Ra,
Bauhaus,
Accadde A,
The Gun Club,
These Immortal Souls,
Wings,
Sparks,
Swell Maps,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Blackbyrds,
Quando Quango,
Judy Mowatt,
The Associates,
Flamin' Groovies,
KRS-One,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eyeless In Gaza,
10cc,
Darondo,
Soft Machine,
Gichy Dan,
Max Romeo,
Dennis Brown,
Procol Harum,
8 Eyed Spy,
Popol Vuh,
Main Source,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Sneak,
Altered Images,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chris Corsano,
The Electric Prunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronnie Foster,
Quantec,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Vogues,
The Red Krayola,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pussy Galore,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.