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 Norway and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 The Names to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Eric Dolphy,
The Count Five,
Black Flag,
Rakim,
Von Mondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Banda Bassotti,
Barrington Levy,
Nils Olav,
David Bowie,
Joy Division,
Aswad,
Quadrant,
OOIOO,
Blake Baxter,
Brick,
The Selecter,
Sound Behaviour,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grey Daturas,
Technova,
Barry Ungar,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Sheep,
Yellowson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sam Rivers,
Cheater Slicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Supertramp,
The Stooges,
The Toasters,
Cybotron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Young Marble Giants,
Dawn Penn,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
Soulsonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
Alton Ellis,
Steve Hackett,
Roxy Music,
The Dead C,
Arthur Verocai,
Lungfish,
Kas Product,
Funkadelic,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rhythm & Sound,
Main Source,
China Crisis,
The Fuzztones,
Pagans,
D'Angelo,
Magma,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Knickerbockers,
Easy Going,
Hot Snakes,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.