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 Vanuatu and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Schoolly D to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar 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 rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Mantronix,
Todd Rundgren,
World's Most,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Maurizio,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Barracudas,
Thompson Twins,
The Fugs,
Tomorrow,
Skarface,
The Vogues,
The Wake,
New York Dolls,
Ultra Naté,
The Real Kids,
Fluxion,
the Slits,
The United States of America,
Henry Cow,
These Immortal Souls,
The Smiths,
Accadde A,
Janne Schatter,
Khruangbin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Malaria!,
Traffic Nightmare,
Soft Machine,
The Victims,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kaleidoscope,
Brothers Johnson,
Zero Boys,
Scott Walker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harry Pussy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nico,
Underground Resistance,
Pantytec,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-102,
The Index,
Alton Ellis,
Angry Samoans,
DJ Style,
Derrick Morgan,
Harmonia,
Danielle Patucci,
Eve St. Jones,
Wasted Youth,
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Blackbyrds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Section 25,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.