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 Peru and from Manila.
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 Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Robert Hood to the jazz 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moss Icon,
The Slits,
B.T. Express,
Cameo,
Yusef Lateef,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang On A Can,
DNA,
Marshall Jefferson,
Matthew Halsall,
Television,
Joey Negro,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sixth Finger,
Index,
Bill Wells,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Last Poets,
Buzzcocks,
Goldenarms,
Blake Baxter,
Johnny Clarke,
Outsiders,
Lindisfarne,
The Birthday Party,
Sonic Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vainqueur,
Negative Approach,
Suicide,
Kayak,
Terrestrial Tones,
Qualms,
Magma,
The Searchers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fugazi,
Jacques Brel,
Idris Muhammad,
Radiopuhelimet,
World's Most,
Fear,
Oblivians,
James White and The Blacks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radio Birdman,
Brothers Johnson,
Godley & Creme,
Carl Craig,
One Last Wish,
La Düsseldorf,
Aural Exciters,
Pantytec,
The Golliwogs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eden Ahbez,
The Buckinghams,
Accadde A,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kool Moe Dee,
Zapp,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.