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 Finland and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Babytalk to the punk 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a chamberlin 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 organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tears for Fears,
Roy Ayers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Liliput,
David McCallum,
The Skatalites,
kango's stein massive,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
John Coltrane,
Gang of Four,
Newcleus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
Dual Sessions,
Jawbox,
Rosa Yemen,
The Young Rascals,
Chris Corsano,
Thee Headcoats,
Janne Schatter,
Magazine,
The Index,
Barbara Tucker,
John Lydon,
The J.B.'s,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Womack,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gichy Dan,
Fear,
Model 500,
The Barracudas,
The Happenings,
Icehouse,
The Electric Prunes,
Althea and Donna,
Pantaleimon,
Sällskapet,
Joe Finger,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
Black Pus,
Half Japanese,
Nico,
FM Einheit,
H. Thieme,
Erykah Badu,
Wolf Eyes,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
The Smiths,
The Fuzztones,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joy Division,
Drexciya,
10cc,
Dark Day,
Neil Young,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.