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 Thailand and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 rap 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Camberwell Now,
The Five Americans,
The Martian,
The Techniques,
The Mojo Men,
The Gladiators,
The Zeros,
Kaleidoscope,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pantytec,
Sarah Menescal,
Skarface,
Procol Harum,
The Smoke,
The Saints,
Funky Four + One,
Tears for Fears,
B.T. Express,
The Modern Lovers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oblivians,
Ossler,
Jerry's Kids,
The Neon Judgement,
Icehouse,
Fat Boys,
Lower 48,
Metal Thangz,
The Move,
Warren Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lee Hazlewood,
Guru Guru,
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bush Tetras,
Sparks,
Max Romeo,
The Moleskins,
Quantec,
Gong,
Simply Red,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tubeway Army,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Robert Hood,
Tomorrow,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Barracudas,
Quando Quango,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Music Machine,
Das Ding,
Thompson Twins,
Tim Buckley,
X-101,
T.S.O.L.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.