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 Morocco and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Prince Buster,
Main Source,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Foxx,
Kas Product,
Don Cherry,
Joe Finger,
the Bar-Kays,
the Germs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funkadelic,
Cecil Taylor,
Hardrive,
James White and The Blacks,
Goldenarms,
Basic Channel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Malaria!,
The Motions,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
The Slits,
Subhumans,
Cheater Slicks,
Pagans,
Bronski Beat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Walker Brothers,
Second Layer,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Duran Duran,
The Blues Magoos,
Eve St. Jones,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Y Pants,
Amon Düül II,
The Fuzztones,
Wings,
The Monochrome Set,
One Last Wish,
Juan Atkins,
Cameo,
Robert Wyatt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sister Nancy,
Terry Callier,
Mandrill,
The Cramps,
Lightning Bolt,
Bush Tetras,
New Order,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Grass Roots,
The Misunderstood,
Electric Prunes,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Hill,
Fluxion,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.