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 Lebanon and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
KRS-One,
The Smoke,
Little Man,
Blancmange,
Lee Hazlewood,
Idris Muhammad,
Eve St. Jones,
Parry Music,
Fear,
Technova,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lyres,
The Seeds,
Rapeman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hashim,
Hardrive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Y Pants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Todd Rundgren,
Von Mondo,
The Names,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Piero Umiliani,
Delta 5,
Arcadia,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Godley & Creme,
John Holt,
The Residents,
The Velvet Underground,
Second Layer,
ABBA,
The Kinks,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
La Düsseldorf,
Prince Buster,
Black Pus,
The Human League,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Hasil Adkins,
Wings,
Mandrill,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grey Daturas,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jeff Lynne,
Marmalade,
Depeche Mode,
Erasure,
Nick Fraelich,
Tom Boy,
the Bar-Kays,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.