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 Slovenia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Ronnie Foster to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
The Index,
Index,
Lalann,
Suicide,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fad Gadget,
Rotary Connection,
Cal Tjader,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
Bronski Beat,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Isaac Hayes,
H. Thieme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Intrusion,
Qualms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lyres,
Aural Exciters,
Siglo XX,
Arab on Radar,
Dennis Brown,
Alice Coltrane,
John Lydon,
Iggy Pop,
The Seeds,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Henry Cow,
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stetsasonic,
Suburban Knight,
Jerry's Kids,
Bill Wells,
Pere Ubu,
Franke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Residents,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Massinfluence,
Kevin Saunderson,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fortunes,
Trumans Water,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Pretty Things,
Tropical Tobacco,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Flesh Eaters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Janne Schatter,
Negative Approach,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.