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 Guyana and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the dance 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Minny Pops,
Lightning Bolt,
Blancmange,
Lalo Schifrin,
Judy Mowatt,
Cecil Taylor,
Maleditus Sound,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Oneida,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Skaos,
Aswad,
Accadde A,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
a-ha,
Glenn Branca,
Sparks,
The Martian,
Sam Rivers,
John Foxx,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yusef Lateef,
Hasil Adkins,
AZ,
Mars,
Sandy B,
Jerry's Kids,
Little Man,
Rod Modell,
The Young Rascals,
The Velvet Underground,
Y Pants,
UT,
Shoche,
The Monks,
Lou Reed,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New Order,
Swans,
Jandek,
Brothers Johnson,
China Crisis,
Junior Murvin,
Fear,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
the Swans,
Cluster,
The Smiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lucky Dragons,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.