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 Slovakia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Johnny Clarke to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a theremin 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alice Coltrane,
Subhumans,
June Days,
Tres Demented,
Minor Threat,
Pantaleimon,
Basic Channel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David McCallum,
T.S.O.L.,
The Happenings,
Los Fastidios,
The Tremeloes,
Colin Newman,
Brothers Johnson,
Skaos,
Avey Tare,
the Germs,
Bob Dylan,
The Last Poets,
Crispy Ambulance,
Underground Resistance,
Television Personalities,
Letta Mbulu,
Yaz,
Schoolly D,
New Age Steppers,
the Association,
Derrick May,
Drexciya,
Harmonia,
Scratch Acid,
Silicon Teens,
Jeff Mills,
Neu!,
The Stooges,
The Misunderstood,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
Newcleus,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cowsills,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thompson Twins,
Pantytec,
In Retrospect,
David Bowie,
Negative Approach,
Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
The Gap Band,
Quadrant,
Supertramp,
Sight & Sound,
Pussy Galore,
The American Breed,
Dave Gahan,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.