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 Nigeria and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Lou Reed & John Cale 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Gladiators,
The Motions,
Joy Division,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brothers Johnson,
Stereo Dub,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Country Teasers,
The Music Machine,
Masters at Work,
Camouflage,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Bourne,
Rotary Connection,
T. Rex,
Boz Scaggs,
Faraquet,
ABC,
New York Dolls,
DJ Sneak,
Stiv Bators,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Barracudas,
Lyres,
PIL,
Lungfish,
the Association,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Royal Trux,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dead Boys,
DNA,
B.T. Express,
Howard Jones,
The Trojans,
Porter Ricks,
The Remains,
The Raincoats,
The Golliwogs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Moody Blues,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mary Jane Girls,
Darondo,
Mantronix,
Tom Boy,
Minny Pops,
Adolescents,
Leonard Cohen,
Eddi Front,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Maurizio,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.