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 Syria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Loose Ends to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grey Daturas,
Terry Callier,
Brass Construction,
Dawn Penn,
Rekid,
Max Romeo,
Pulsallama,
Main Source,
The Remains,
E-Dancer,
Lou Reed,
Duran Duran,
Stiv Bators,
Pole,
The Blackbyrds,
Young Marble Giants,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joy Division,
The Walker Brothers,
Faust,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
MC5,
Goldenarms,
Thee Headcoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reuben Wilson,
The Tremeloes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Essential Logic,
K-Klass,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rod Modell,
Zero Boys,
Marc Almond,
Spandau Ballet,
Sugar Minott,
Idris Muhammad,
Grauzone,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gories,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brand Nubian,
Monolake,
Kerrie Biddell,
Maleditus Sound,
Mark Hollis,
The Beau Brummels,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Motions,
Eurythmics,
Agitation Free,
The Evens,
Yaz,
Junior Murvin,
Magma,
Howard Jones,
Fluxion,
Boz Scaggs,
Blake Baxter,
Shuggie Otis,
Fear,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.