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 Oman and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the electroclash 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin 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 chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Gang Green,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dark Day,
Japan,
Ludus,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Porter Ricks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Brothers Johnson,
The Knickerbockers,
The Blues Magoos,
Howard Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Birthday Party,
Cymande,
Shoche,
OOIOO,
Interpol,
the Slits,
Harry Pussy,
The Searchers,
Bobby Byrd,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Surgeon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Prince Buster,
The Remains,
Oneida,
Sight & Sound,
Ituana,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arthur Verocai,
Slick Rick,
The Five Americans,
Dead Boys,
Desert Stars,
Godley & Creme,
Fad Gadget,
CMW,
Kayak,
Zero Boys,
Terry Callier,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Hardrive,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Doors,
Junior Murvin,
Alice Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
China Crisis,
Scion,
T. Rex,
Eric Copeland,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.