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 Somalia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wings to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
LL Cool J,
Joe Finger,
10cc,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
Jeru the Damaja,
Junior Murvin,
Frankie Knuckles,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
Lyres,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
Harry Pussy,
The Smiths,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Niagra,
The Trojans,
Freddie Wadling,
Bootsy Collins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Stereo Dub,
Iggy Pop,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gun Club,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ice-T,
Grauzone,
The Move,
Smog,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick May,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jandek,
The Misunderstood,
Slave,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dead C,
Nico,
Rod Modell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MDC,
Jeff Mills,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moebius,
The Grass Roots,
Mr. Review,
It's A Beautiful Day,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Bananas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.