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 Micronesia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fluxion to the techno 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grey Daturas,
Mo-Dettes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gabor Szabo,
Charles Mingus,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Womack,
Can,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Crooked Eye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
DNA,
Oblivians,
Danielle Patucci,
Pagans,
Monks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mr. Review,
The Slackers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Knickerbockers,
Bob Dylan,
Unrelated Segments,
Deadbeat,
X-102,
Kayak,
Vladislav Delay,
John Holt,
Spandau Ballet,
Intrusion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Das Ding,
Derrick Morgan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxy Music,
Kurtis Blow,
Surgeon,
Aural Exciters,
Wings,
Clear Light,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Soul II Soul,
Matthew Bourne,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Grass Roots,
Unwound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Banda Bassotti,
Reagan Youth,
The Fall,
Joey Negro,
The Motions,
U.S. Maple,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.