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 Brunei and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Pussy Galore to the grime 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ 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 mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Matthew Halsall,
Fear,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Sheep,
H. Thieme,
Khruangbin,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Pretty Things,
Shuggie Otis,
Metal Thangz,
Warsaw,
La Düsseldorf,
Wings,
KRS-One,
Wire,
Accadde A,
Carl Craig,
The Fuzztones,
The Mummies,
Lindisfarne,
Yazoo,
Spandau Ballet,
Smog,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grauzone,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Clarke,
Kayak,
The Evens,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Schoolly D,
Q65,
Black Moon,
Andrew Hill,
Stiv Bators,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fire Engines,
LL Cool J,
EPMD,
The United States of America,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Terry,
Fluxion,
Saccharine Trust,
Johnny Osbourne,
Monolake,
The Dirtbombs,
Skaos,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Frankie Knuckles,
June Days,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anakelly,
Rotary Connection,
The Wake,
Crooked Eye,
JFA,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.