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 Vanuatu and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
FM Einheit,
Minor Threat,
Section 25,
Mantronix,
Aloha Tigers,
Dawn Penn,
Black Sheep,
Spoonie Gee,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Todd Rundgren,
X-Ray Spex,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rod Modell,
Simply Red,
Duran Duran,
Newcleus,
Aural Exciters,
Unwound,
Joensuu 1685,
Fatback Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Model 500,
Flamin' Groovies,
Livin' Joy,
The Vogues,
World's Most,
Letta Mbulu,
Iggy Pop,
Masters at Work,
The Sonics,
Monolake,
The Black Dice,
Rufus Thomas,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Durutti Column,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Scan 7,
Mr. Review,
Roxette,
the Bar-Kays,
New York Dolls,
Subhumans,
Swell Maps,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tommy Roe,
Colin Newman,
The Sound,
Lower 48,
Hoover,
The Birthday Party,
Icehouse,
Mo-Dettes,
Eli Mardock,
Arthur Verocai,
Organ,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Index,
Pussy Galore,
Don Cherry,
10cc,
Mad Mike,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.