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 Czech Republic and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 rhodes 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 Amon Düül to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 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 marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Index,
The Skatalites,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harry Pussy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Last Poets,
The Stooges,
Fluxion,
The Trojans,
Electric Prunes,
Pylon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rod Modell,
The Gories,
Quantec,
A Certain Ratio,
Little Man,
Slick Rick,
Black Sheep,
Thompson Twins,
Mr. Review,
The Shadows of Knight,
Angry Samoans,
Neu!,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Womack,
X-102,
These Immortal Souls,
the Germs,
Adolescents,
Letta Mbulu,
Donny Hathaway,
Fatback Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Busters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Livin' Joy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Basic Channel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
June Days,
Matthew Halsall,
Toni Rubio,
Country Teasers,
Michelle Simonal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cluster,
Con Funk Shun,
Bluetip,
Bootsy Collins,
The Leaves,
The Electric Prunes,
Sun City Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.