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 Saudi Arabia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Toasters to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
Quando Quango,
Lalann,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eurythmics,
Simply Red,
Roxy Music,
Pantaleimon,
Steve Hackett,
Alton Ellis,
Basic Channel,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minutemen,
U.S. Maple,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ornette Coleman,
Sex Pistols,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-101,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liliput,
Thompson Twins,
Michelle Simonal,
Flipper,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Judy Mowatt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fad Gadget,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
Fat Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Amazonics,
Dead Boys,
Cameo,
Television Personalities,
Dual Sessions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Erykah Badu,
Cluster,
Siglo XX,
Icehouse,
Chrome,
The Last Poets,
Don Cherry,
The Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Normal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Severed Heads,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.