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 Kosovo and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Thompson Twins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet 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 snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Althea and Donna,
Glenn Branca,
John Foxx,
Tears for Fears,
Maurizio,
Aloha Tigers,
the Sonics,
Max Romeo,
X-102,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lucky Dragons,
Lyres,
Infiniti,
Reagan Youth,
Suicide,
John Holt,
Rufus Thomas,
The Walker Brothers,
Massinfluence,
Robert Wyatt,
Warren Ellis,
CMW,
Fluxion,
The Fall,
Chrome,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Archie Shepp,
Don Cherry,
The Durutti Column,
Whodini,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Television Personalities,
The Birthday Party,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Clarke,
48th St. Collective,
F. McDonald,
The Cramps,
Peter & Gordon,
Aswad,
the Germs,
Angry Samoans,
Technova,
The Golliwogs,
Deakin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minny Pops,
Royal Trux,
Lalann,
Scrapy,
Sight & Sound,
Slave,
Oblivians,
The Buckinghams,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jacques Brel,
Nirvana,
Stiv Bators,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.