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 Bahrain and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 PIL 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Glenn Branca,
Kas Product,
The New Christs,
the Association,
Steve Hackett,
Unrelated Segments,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Marvin Gaye,
Max Romeo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed,
Little Man,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
James White and The Blacks,
Underground Resistance,
the Normal,
The Associates,
Joyce Sims,
Ultravox,
The Walker Brothers,
the Human League,
K-Klass,
Television Personalities,
Los Fastidios,
Camberwell Now,
The Buckinghams,
Sällskapet,
Black Sheep,
Tom Boy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harmonia,
Darondo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lakeside,
Andrew Hill,
Bush Tetras,
Stetsasonic,
H. Thieme,
Radiohead,
Judy Mowatt,
Charles Mingus,
Young Marble Giants,
Circle Jerks,
Amazonics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blossom Toes,
Warsaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bill Near,
Jeff Lynne,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bob Dylan,
Country Teasers,
Scan 7,
T.S.O.L.,
Lucky Dragons,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.