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 Ghana and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Desert Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar 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 clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Skarface,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Duran Duran,
The Sonics,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barbara Tucker,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Raincoats,
Thee Headcoats,
Scott Walker,
ABBA,
Bizarre Inc.,
The J.B.'s,
Bill Near,
Dave Gahan,
Prince Buster,
Loose Ends,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chrome,
Hot Snakes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
New Order,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Hood,
Crime,
World's Most,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Theoretical Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
The Durutti Column,
Fugazi,
Yaz,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kaleidoscope,
U.S. Maple,
Tropical Tobacco,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric B and Rakim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alphaville,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Germs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Visage,
Davy DMX,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Searchers,
Gabor Szabo,
CMW,
Jeff Lynne,
the Bar-Kays,
The Buckinghams,
Zapp,
Ludus,
Black Pus,
The Velvet Underground,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.