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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Kurtis Blow to the rock 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
World's Most,
Jimmy McGriff,
Urselle,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lucky Dragons,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
Ornette Coleman,
Chrome,
Altered Images,
The Smiths,
Absolute Body Control,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hashim,
The Moody Blues,
Cameo,
Scott Walker,
the Normal,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Slits,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Pere Ubu,
Kenny Larkin,
Moby Grape,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spandau Ballet,
The Martian,
Pantaleimon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Model 500,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Litter,
Patti Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scientists,
The Beau Brummels,
Connie Case,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Malaria!,
Interpol,
The Moleskins,
Can,
Hasil Adkins,
the Swans,
Hot Snakes,
Howard Jones,
Aaron Thompson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Suburban Knight,
Underground Resistance,
Carl Craig,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Neon Judgement,
The Count Five,
Marmalade,
Guru Guru,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.