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 Kazakhstan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba 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 güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Duran Duran,
World's Most,
Ituana,
Spoonie Gee,
Yazoo,
John Lydon,
the Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Average White Band,
Joy Division,
the Sonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
David Axelrod,
Technova,
Laurel Aitken,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
Alphaville,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tim Buckley,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Doors,
The Red Krayola,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sex Pistols,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Max Romeo,
Skarface,
Bobby Byrd,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nirvana,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
The Gladiators,
Dawn Penn,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crooked Eye,
Chris & Cosey,
Q and Not U,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amon Düül,
Au Pairs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Buckinghams,
Massinfluence,
Pylon,
Dennis Brown,
The Smoke,
Blake Baxter,
Yusef Lateef,
Icehouse,
Erykah Badu,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Görl,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.