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 Honduras and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Babytalk to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 a snare and a harpsichord 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 spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
48th St. Collective,
Brick,
Alton Ellis,
Warsaw,
Fluxion,
Lightning Bolt,
Oblivians,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare,
The Searchers,
The Stooges,
Todd Terry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cymande,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Beau Brummels,
Ronan,
DJ Sneak,
Crooked Eye,
Roxy Music,
Camberwell Now,
Lyres,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
The Associates,
Cecil Taylor,
Mantronix,
The Cowsills,
K-Klass,
Curtis Mayfield,
Don Cherry,
Angry Samoans,
Marine Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Jeff Mills,
The Fortunes,
DJ Style,
Morten Harket,
Robert Hood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fugazi,
The Mojo Men,
Simply Red,
Suburban Knight,
The J.B.'s,
Rosa Yemen,
Sarah Menescal,
Zero Boys,
The Kinks,
Toni Rubio,
The Flesh Eaters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ludus,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.