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 Armenia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Crime to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ 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 marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Scrapy,
Tom Boy,
Eve St. Jones,
Gong,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fat Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Normal,
Scratch Acid,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
PIL,
Archie Shepp,
Al Stewart,
This Heat,
Audionom,
Arthur Verocai,
China Crisis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Althea and Donna,
Slick Rick,
Easy Going,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radiopuhelimet,
MC5,
Grandmaster Flash,
Derrick Morgan,
Nas,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun City Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rufus Thomas,
Roxy Music,
Flipper,
Organ,
Half Japanese,
The Zeros,
Henry Cow,
Letta Mbulu,
Hot Snakes,
Severed Heads,
Section 25,
The Evens,
Metal Thangz,
Surgeon,
Soulsonic Force,
Bauhaus,
Black Flag,
ABBA,
The Kinks,
R.M.O.,
Dawn Penn,
The Gap Band,
B.T. Express,
Crooked Eye,
Altered Images,
Minor Threat,
Mars,
Y Pants,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.