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 Togo and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Bluetip to the dance 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe 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 güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Kaleidoscope,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers,
Aloha Tigers,
Cameo,
The Gun Club,
Gabor Szabo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amon Düül,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter and Kerry,
Scratch Acid,
The Cure,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crime,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
Suburban Knight,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
Charles Mingus,
Crash Course in Science,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eurythmics,
Juan Atkins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bad Manners,
Blake Baxter,
Whodini,
Deadbeat,
Michelle Simonal,
Pantaleimon,
The Last Poets,
The Blues Magoos,
The Vogues,
Spoonie Gee,
Das Ding,
Blossom Toes,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare,
Suicide,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter & Gordon,
Urselle,
Robert Wyatt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cheater Slicks,
World's Most,
The Fire Engines,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vainqueur,
Jawbox,
Infiniti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Bananas,
Lucky Dragons,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.