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 Luxembourg 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 Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Buzzcocks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
ABBA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scientists,
Marmalade,
The Kinks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacob Miller,
Ornette Coleman,
One Last Wish,
Henry Cow,
Nirvana,
The Fuzztones,
DNA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlback,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Thompson Twins,
The Fortunes,
In Retrospect,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
B.T. Express,
Blake Baxter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barry Ungar,
Accadde A,
The Monochrome Set,
Magazine,
The Fall,
Shuggie Otis,
Marine Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Lyres,
The Pop Group,
Scan 7,
Rakim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Iggy Pop,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dead Boys,
Hardrive,
The Five Americans,
Agitation Free,
John Lydon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Main Source,
Fad Gadget,
MDC,
Gregory Isaacs,
Neu!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mad Mike,
Sugar Minott,
Sällskapet,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.