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 Solomon Islands and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Brothers Johnson to the dance 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Amon Düül II,
Fad Gadget,
Duran Duran,
Pharoah Sanders,
Qualms,
Iggy Pop,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Intrusion,
The Grass Roots,
Slave,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang On A Can,
The Wake,
Talk Talk,
T. Rex,
Lou Christie,
Terrestrial Tones,
Franke,
a-ha,
EPMD,
Fear,
Underground Resistance,
Average White Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Zeros,
Skarface,
Hashim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Blake Baxter,
Porter Ricks,
Inner City,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Organ,
Kenny Larkin,
Piero Umiliani,
In Retrospect,
Quando Quango,
The Knickerbockers,
Erasure,
Radio Birdman,
Fat Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
Judy Mowatt,
Sällskapet,
The Angels of Light,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Pus,
CMW,
Half Japanese,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Byrd,
the Normal,
The Doobie Brothers,
Monks,
Supertramp,
Chrome,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.