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 Sudan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Grass Roots to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 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 spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Roger Hodgson,
Quantec,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeru the Damaja,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scientists,
The Invisible,
David Bowie,
Sight & Sound,
Khruangbin,
Sarah Menescal,
Davy DMX,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry's Kids,
Terry Callier,
B.T. Express,
World's Most,
Nirvana,
The Human League,
Crime,
Nas,
The Barracudas,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül,
Wally Richardson,
The Kinks,
Patti Smith,
Easy Going,
Scan 7,
The Leaves,
Jandek,
Bootsy Collins,
Slave,
Soulsonic Force,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
The Alarm Clocks,
Interpol,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Bananas,
Isaac Hayes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kool Moe Dee,
FM Einheit,
Lungfish,
Wolf Eyes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dual Sessions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Flesh Eaters,
PIL,
T. Rex,
Sugar Minott,
Hashim,
the Normal,
Roy Ayers,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.