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 Barbados and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Henry Cow,
Kaleidoscope,
Scratch Acid,
DJ Sneak,
June Days,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Teasers,
Guru Guru,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
The Gap Band,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Moleskins,
The Cramps,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Model 500,
Royal Trux,
Jacques Brel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Trumans Water,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tommy Roe,
Peter and Kerry,
Alton Ellis,
Zero Boys,
Groovy Waters,
Roxette,
Pylon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Barracudas,
Lindisfarne,
Pole,
Matthew Bourne,
Echospace,
Lakeside,
Masters at Work,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deakin,
New York Dolls,
Lyres,
The Busters,
The Evens,
The Music Machine,
Y Pants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cure,
Mad Mike,
Franke,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.