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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Circle Jerks 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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin 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 rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Dark Day,
Gong,
Skriet,
Surgeon,
H. Thieme,
Lyres,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
Qualms,
Aswad,
Bill Near,
Marine Girls,
Visage,
The Index,
Boredoms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Technova,
Sandy B,
X-101,
Prince Buster,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Big Daddy Kane,
Icehouse,
Soft Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alphaville,
Joe Smooth,
Toni Rubio,
Henry Cow,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vainqueur,
Ludus,
The Litter,
Hoover,
The Trojans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swell Maps,
Royal Trux,
Heaven 17,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Suburban Knight,
Sugar Minott,
Tres Demented,
Erasure,
Talk Talk,
The Slits,
Echospace,
Animal Collective,
Electric Prunes,
Black Pus,
Todd Terry,
Joy Division,
La Düsseldorf,
Stereo Dub,
Ken Boothe,
Tom Boy,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.