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 East Timor and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the crunk 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
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,
Monks,
Symarip,
Alphaville,
Minutemen,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
E-Dancer,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soft Cell,
Whodini,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cybotron,
Brass Construction,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vladislav Delay,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sex Pistols,
June Days,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Howard Jones,
The Saints,
Joyce Sims,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Holt,
Black Pus,
The Leaves,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cluster,
Arcadia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Malaria!,
The Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Skatalites,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Todd Terry,
Dark Day,
Donny Hathaway,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare,
X-101,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eve St. Jones,
Jawbox,
Nick Fraelich,
Traffic Nightmare,
New Age Steppers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Donald Byrd,
Max Romeo,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.