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 Kazakhstan and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Freddie Wadling to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Pagans,
The Trojans,
Fear,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hardrive,
Stiv Bators,
The Motions,
Au Pairs,
The Fall,
Surgeon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Duran Duran,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Music Machine,
Ultravox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sonic Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alphaville,
Mars,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
The Saints,
PIL,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Germs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alison Limerick,
Delta 5,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
F. McDonald,
Nick Fraelich,
Letta Mbulu,
The Selecter,
Wasted Youth,
Bluetip,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Rundgren,
Flipper,
Swans,
Agent Orange,
Black Moon,
Henry Cow,
Das Ding,
The Leaves,
Accadde A,
The Zeros,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gong,
Yaz,
The Happenings,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oneida,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.