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 Cyprus and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
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,
Robert Hood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The New Christs,
D'Angelo,
kango's stein massive,
Cal Tjader,
Arthur Verocai,
AZ,
The Offenders,
The Five Americans,
the Sonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smoke,
Hardrive,
The Fire Engines,
These Immortal Souls,
Siglo XX,
Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Barbara Tucker,
Eli Mardock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dead Boys,
Tommy Roe,
The United States of America,
Flipper,
Bob Dylan,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Outsiders,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Junior Murvin,
Kurtis Blow,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
Public Image Ltd.,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Surgeon,
Bad Manners,
The Golliwogs,
Lakeside,
Fat Boys,
ABBA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wally Richardson,
Lindisfarne,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
Flash Fearless,
Aural Exciters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.