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 Zambia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Invisible to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet 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 an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Doobie Brothers,
Maurizio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Selecter,
Tres Demented,
Loose Ends,
Aaron Thompson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Oblivians,
The Durutti Column,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joyce Sims,
Lakeside,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Offenders,
Barrington Levy,
H. Thieme,
Albert Ayler,
ABBA,
Jeff Lynne,
Unrelated Segments,
Kaleidoscope,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Trojans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grey Daturas,
Little Man,
Heaven 17,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cowsills,
Talk Talk,
Alton Ellis,
Neil Young,
One Last Wish,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monochrome Set,
The Searchers,
Quadrant,
Massinfluence,
Qualms,
The Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scott Walker,
Warren Ellis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moby Grape,
The Count Five,
New York Dolls,
LL Cool J,
Wasted Youth,
Scrapy,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.