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 Greece and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Invisible to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer 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 oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Schoolly D,
Joe Finger,
Bob Dylan,
Chrome,
Underground Resistance,
Joy Division,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Josef K,
Unwound,
ABBA,
Bootsy Collins,
Scratch Acid,
DNA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Human League,
a-ha,
June Days,
Echospace,
CMW,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
kango's stein massive,
The Associates,
A Certain Ratio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Al Stewart,
Wolf Eyes,
The Count Five,
The American Breed,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Near,
Das Ding,
Nation of Ulysses,
Warren Ellis,
Massinfluence,
Alton Ellis,
Faraquet,
Freddie Wadling,
Country Teasers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Happenings,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Coltrane,
Little Man,
The Fall,
Swans,
Delta 5,
The Cowsills,
Ice-T,
Malaria!,
The Fire Engines,
Visage,
The Detroit Cobras,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Harry Pussy,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.