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 Benin and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sonic Youth to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba 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 organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Smog,
Scan 7,
Siglo XX,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Residents,
Second Layer,
The Happenings,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Underground Resistance,
John Lydon,
Donald Byrd,
Talk Talk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nas,
Pierre Henry,
MDC,
Peter & Gordon,
Rekid,
Warren Ellis,
Hot Snakes,
Television Personalities,
Bob Dylan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Desert Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stereo Dub,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Leaves,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rod Modell,
The Saints,
Das Ding,
Carl Craig,
Arab on Radar,
T.S.O.L.,
Erykah Badu,
Boz Scaggs,
Idris Muhammad,
Eden Ahbez,
Roger Hodgson,
The Buckinghams,
Surgeon,
Heaven 17,
Black Pus,
Barbara Tucker,
Godley & Creme,
Average White Band,
Zero Boys,
David Bowie,
Sight & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chrome,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radio Birdman,
Barrington Levy,
Scott Walker,
Suicide,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.