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 Tonga and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Can to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro 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 güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Stereo Dub,
Aaron Thompson,
Sixth Finger,
Don Cherry,
Morten Harket,
Lyres,
Tomorrow,
Tommy Roe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ice-T,
ABC,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
Neu!,
Deepchord,
The Cowsills,
Arab on Radar,
Minnie Riperton,
Steve Hackett,
Sister Nancy,
Nick Fraelich,
Cybotron,
Monks,
Rites of Spring,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Motions,
Andrew Hill,
Magma,
Nas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Animal Collective,
Bill Wells,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pierre Henry,
Ten City,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Zeros,
Man Parrish,
R.M.O.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marvin Gaye,
Marmalade,
Chris Corsano,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brick,
Easy Going,
The Real Kids,
The Red Krayola,
Warren Ellis,
Lower 48,
This Heat,
Lakeside,
Black Moon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Erykah Badu,
Scion,
The Trojans,
Khruangbin,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.