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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Altered Images to the disco 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
John Lydon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Public Enemy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pulsallama,
Robert Görl,
Eyeless In Gaza,
World's Most,
Nils Olav,
John Foxx,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gladiators,
Absolute Body Control,
the Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
LL Cool J,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter and Kerry,
Tres Demented,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Magma,
Unwound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Toni Rubio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Godley & Creme,
Max Romeo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
One Last Wish,
The Cramps,
Crispian St. Peters,
June of 44,
Radiohead,
The Gories,
The Smiths,
Aloha Tigers,
The Vogues,
In Retrospect,
The Five Americans,
Bootsy Collins,
OOIOO,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
Warren Ellis,
L. Decosne,
Darondo,
Grey Daturas,
Drexciya,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eden Ahbez,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Maurizio,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Suicide,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.