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 Costa Rica and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Barclay James Harvest to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a mellotron and a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Popol Vuh,
Ronan,
Harmonia,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
Quantec,
Radiohead,
a-ha,
Roger Hodgson,
Max Romeo,
Rod Modell,
Ronnie Foster,
OOIOO,
Henry Cow,
Sight & Sound,
Funky Four + One,
This Heat,
The Moleskins,
Sarah Menescal,
The Tremeloes,
Nirvana,
Kevin Saunderson,
CMW,
Ralphi Rosario,
Neil Young,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soulsonic Force,
Kayak,
Suicide,
Scrapy,
Fela Kuti,
Can,
Dave Gahan,
Moebius,
the Human League,
Pylon,
Whodini,
Mo-Dettes,
Junior Murvin,
Quando Quango,
The Fortunes,
Jeff Lynne,
Crash Course in Science,
Sound Behaviour,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crooked Eye,
Neu!,
FM Einheit,
John Lydon,
The Misunderstood,
Silicon Teens,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slackers,
Arcadia,
ABC,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wings,
The Pop Group,
Charles Mingus,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.