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 Mauritius and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron 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 clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fad Gadget,
Animal Collective,
Outsiders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Buzzcocks,
John Coltrane,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dead C,
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Depeche Mode,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rakim,
Marine Girls,
Scrapy,
Ornette Coleman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
A Certain Ratio,
Deakin,
Stereo Dub,
Barry Ungar,
Sound Behaviour,
Archie Shepp,
Maurizio,
Dawn Penn,
Nils Olav,
Fluxion,
The Last Poets,
Scan 7,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mo-Dettes,
Panda Bear,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Womack,
the Association,
The Red Krayola,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kayak,
Susan Cadogan,
Minor Threat,
Gang Green,
The Sonics,
Bill Wells,
Terry Callier,
Drive Like Jehu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Severed Heads,
Moss Icon,
The Blues Magoos,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lyres,
Todd Rundgren,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.