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 Maldives and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Godley & Creme to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Masters at Work,
Eric Copeland,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Sneak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Essential Logic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Toni Rubio,
Sparks,
Shuggie Otis,
Tomorrow,
Babytalk,
Dual Sessions,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
Surgeon,
Kas Product,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Faust,
Vainqueur,
Derrick May,
Carl Craig,
The Walker Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Zero Boys,
Royal Trux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül II,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gun Club,
Peter & Gordon,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Buckinghams,
Minny Pops,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pole,
Iggy Pop,
Symarip,
Moby Grape,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ituana,
Lee Hazlewood,
FM Einheit,
Altered Images,
Alphaville,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Halsall,
Hardrive,
The Fortunes,
Mantronix,
Monks,
Young Marble Giants,
Moebius,
Dark Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.