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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Urselle to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Alarm Clocks,
a-ha,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Chrome,
Pylon,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Bananas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fatback Band,
Infiniti,
Agent Orange,
Jacques Brel,
John Foxx,
Ludus,
Moss Icon,
Babytalk,
The Selecter,
Slave,
Aloha Tigers,
Bauhaus,
Echospace,
Jesper Dahlback,
AZ,
Lindisfarne,
Cybotron,
Average White Band,
Crooked Eye,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ronnie Foster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Anakelly,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Happenings,
The Gap Band,
Symarip,
Eli Mardock,
The Grass Roots,
Shoche,
The Misunderstood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thee Headcoats,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Moon,
Ultra Naté,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kayak,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Donald Byrd,
Wire,
Avey Tare,
Talk Talk,
10cc,
Reuben Wilson,
Mandrill,
The Dave Clark Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Connie Case,
The Litter,
The Tremeloes,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.