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 Egypt and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Matthew Bourne to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mr. Review,
Steve Hackett,
Pharoah Sanders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
KRS-One,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
T. Rex,
In Retrospect,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
The Gories,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stiv Bators,
Pere Ubu,
Thee Headcoats,
Freddie Wadling,
China Crisis,
The Vogues,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Funkadelic,
Crime,
Ten City,
Fat Boys,
The J.B.'s,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Isaac Hayes,
The Standells,
Aloha Tigers,
Nico,
Groovy Waters,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Görl,
The Slackers,
Altered Images,
Quando Quango,
Bob Dylan,
Kerri Chandler,
Lower 48,
Pantaleimon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Desert Stars,
Tim Buckley,
Rufus Thomas,
The Dirtbombs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Porter Ricks,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
Soul Sonic Force,
Unwound,
Fela Kuti,
Sarah Menescal,
The Selecter,
Gerry Rafferty,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wings,
Matthew Bourne,
Derrick Morgan,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.