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 Philippines and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba 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 Nils Olav to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 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 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Monolake,
Patti Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Erykah Badu,
June of 44,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Supertramp,
Morten Harket,
The American Breed,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Move,
The Saints,
The Martian,
Ten City,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Motorama,
The Motions,
Minnie Riperton,
The Grass Roots,
The Offenders,
Surgeon,
Arthur Verocai,
Gabor Szabo,
Spandau Ballet,
The Raincoats,
The Blues Magoos,
Parry Music,
New York Dolls,
Zero Boys,
June Days,
China Crisis,
Tomorrow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drexciya,
The Red Krayola,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
The Slackers,
EPMD,
The Leaves,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Suburban Knight,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mantronix,
Nils Olav,
The Moody Blues,
B.T. Express,
Sandy B,
Scan 7,
Alison Limerick,
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
David McCallum,
Essential Logic,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Görl,
The Velvet Underground,
Japan,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.