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 Finland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
The Fuzztones,
Symarip,
Patti Smith,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gladiators,
Saccharine Trust,
Lee Hazlewood,
DJ Style,
Sam Rivers,
Roxy Music,
Henry Cow,
X-102,
Marmalade,
Pagans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Glenn Branca,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Shuggie Otis,
Organ,
Qualms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flipper,
U.S. Maple,
Gong,
Joyce Sims,
Funkadelic,
The Velvet Underground,
Sällskapet,
Hoover,
Rufus Thomas,
Marc Almond,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rites of Spring,
FM Einheit,
Brass Construction,
Alton Ellis,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott Heron,
These Immortal Souls,
The Trojans,
Harry Pussy,
Joy Division,
Drexciya,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
Deakin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Green,
The Cramps,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeff Lynne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Das Ding,
Derrick May,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.