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 New Zealand and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Man Parrish to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet 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 mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Litter,
Gang Green,
Judy Mowatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Graham Central Station,
Tommy Roe,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ken Boothe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
This Heat,
Organ,
Newcleus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
Scott Walker,
Fat Boys,
The Standells,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Parry Music,
Cybotron,
The Gap Band,
The J.B.'s,
The Detroit Cobras,
Royal Trux,
Dave Gahan,
The Cure,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Young Marble Giants,
Bush Tetras,
La Düsseldorf,
The Divine Comedy,
Alphaville,
Patti Smith,
Essential Logic,
The Young Rascals,
the Germs,
The Velvet Underground,
the Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ituana,
KRS-One,
Wire,
Albert Ayler,
Kayak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
Quantec,
Gerry Rafferty,
Technova,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Electric Prunes,
Leonard Cohen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Terry Callier,
Dark Day,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.