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 Afghanistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Lyon.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mad Mike to the techno 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Brick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Slackers,
Moss Icon,
Fad Gadget,
The Beau Brummels,
Mission of Burma,
Scion,
Flipper,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flash Fearless,
New York Dolls,
Leonard Cohen,
Arcadia,
Nick Fraelich,
The Electric Prunes,
Unwound,
Tommy Roe,
Motorama,
Circle Jerks,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Niagra,
Avey Tare,
Big Daddy Kane,
Chris & Cosey,
The Tremeloes,
Kayak,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Jawbox,
Black Sheep,
The New Christs,
Dawn Penn,
Negative Approach,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Association,
Ponytail,
the Bar-Kays,
The Shadows of Knight,
Technova,
Soft Machine,
Marine Girls,
Accadde A,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Glenn Branca,
The Young Rascals,
Anakelly,
Silicon Teens,
Scientists,
Severed Heads,
EPMD,
The Searchers,
Mars,
Pulsallama,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.