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 Nicaragua and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 Judy Mowatt to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Boz Scaggs,
Glenn Branca,
The Divine Comedy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terry Callier,
The Mummies,
Soul Sonic Force,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fad Gadget,
cv313,
Letta Mbulu,
CMW,
The Trojans,
Groovy Waters,
Massinfluence,
Jawbox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker,
Arab on Radar,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Barracudas,
The Kinks,
Outsiders,
Kayak,
Index,
The Fall,
Jandek,
Marine Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fugazi,
The Gories,
Bill Near,
The Durutti Column,
Half Japanese,
The Motions,
Siglo XX,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Holt,
Ken Boothe,
The Doobie Brothers,
KRS-One,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang On A Can,
MDC,
EPMD,
The Birthday Party,
Susan Cadogan,
The Five Americans,
The Toasters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Al Stewart,
The Leaves,
Hot Snakes,
Yaz,
Eric B and Rakim,
This Heat,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.