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 Congo and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron 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 Roxy Music to the rap 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
Organ,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brick,
Lucky Dragons,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dead C,
Marmalade,
Pulsallama,
The Neon Judgement,
La Düsseldorf,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Tim Buckley,
Althea and Donna,
Pussy Galore,
Saccharine Trust,
The Evens,
Johnny Clarke,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Aloha Tigers,
June Days,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barclay James Harvest,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare,
The Cure,
Franke,
The Raincoats,
Bush Tetras,
Lightning Bolt,
Bill Near,
Unrelated Segments,
Inner City,
The Vogues,
Hardrive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sandy B,
Rites of Spring,
Josef K,
The Smoke,
Swell Maps,
New Order,
The Human League,
Magma,
Max Romeo,
Howard Jones,
Sugar Minott,
Amon Düül II,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.