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 Lithuania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blancmange 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Byron Stingily,
Rakim,
Severed Heads,
Gang of Four,
Franke,
The Smiths,
The Happenings,
Soft Machine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Black Dice,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alice Coltrane,
ABBA,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jacques Brel,
Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Todd Terry,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Skatalites,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bluetip,
Fat Boys,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alton Ellis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Malaria!,
Moss Icon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Prince Buster,
Ultravox,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Dolphy,
Lyres,
The Last Poets,
The Moleskins,
John Holt,
Vladislav Delay,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monolake,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Basic Channel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Outsiders,
Skaos,
The Modern Lovers,
Wally Richardson,
Theoretical Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
John Cale,
Country Teasers,
Accadde A,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.