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 Nigeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Dirtbombs to the jazz 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode 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?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Count Five,
The Last Poets,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aural Exciters,
the Association,
Ossler,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deepchord,
Sound Behaviour,
Faraquet,
Letta Mbulu,
Derrick Morgan,
Porter Ricks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Dirtbombs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roy Ayers,
Deakin,
The Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roxette,
Barry Ungar,
Gong,
Bang On A Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Womack,
Howard Jones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Human League,
The Smiths,
Jacob Miller,
Marcia Griffiths,
Peter & Gordon,
Toni Rubio,
Mission of Burma,
the Germs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
OOIOO,
The Zeros,
Godley & Creme,
Moebius,
Dead Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
Derrick May,
the Slits,
Scrapy,
Slave,
Jerry's Kids,
Mantronix,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sarah Menescal,
Ronan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Leaves,
Idris Muhammad,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
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.