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 Malawi and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
The Mummies,
Bauhaus,
Black Flag,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy Collins,
Absolute Body Control,
Howard Jones,
The Skatalites,
Henry Cow,
Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
The Evens,
Junior Murvin,
Public Enemy,
The Vogues,
Radio Birdman,
Scion,
The Motions,
Erasure,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Surgeon,
Cluster,
The Pretty Things,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Zeros,
Godley & Creme,
Wally Richardson,
Joe Finger,
The Misunderstood,
The Associates,
The Knickerbockers,
Minor Threat,
The Doors,
The Durutti Column,
The Slackers,
Altered Images,
the Germs,
The Pop Group,
Lakeside,
Vladislav Delay,
Procol Harum,
Ronan,
Simply Red,
Hasil Adkins,
Mr. Review,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Janne Schatter,
The Gun Club,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Metal Thangz,
Sister Nancy,
Brick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun City Girls,
X-101,
Fugazi,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.