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 Turkey and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 The Blackbyrds to the rock 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Oblivians,
Swans,
The Gladiators,
The Buckinghams,
Sixth Finger,
The Smoke,
Deepchord,
The Names,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Wyatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Young Rascals,
Boogie Down Productions,
Letta Mbulu,
Liliput,
Blancmange,
Can,
Neu!,
Bad Manners,
Nation of Ulysses,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harmonia,
June Days,
Main Source,
Fad Gadget,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
U.S. Maple,
Boz Scaggs,
David Axelrod,
Shoche,
Fela Kuti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ornette Coleman,
Ossler,
The Invisible,
The American Breed,
Deadbeat,
Sällskapet,
Livin' Joy,
The Cowsills,
OOIOO,
Mark Hollis,
Rod Modell,
Newcleus,
EPMD,
F. McDonald,
Funkadelic,
Vainqueur,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Heaven 17,
the Slits,
Sun Ra,
ABC,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacob Miller,
Black Moon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultravox,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.