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 Tajikistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the funk 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron 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 harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Agent Orange,
Alison Limerick,
Junior Murvin,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Absolute Body Control,
The American Breed,
Tres Demented,
Lightning Bolt,
Magazine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Swans,
Warren Ellis,
Jawbox,
Arab on Radar,
Masters at Work,
Echospace,
The Moody Blues,
The Barracudas,
Livin' Joy,
This Heat,
Eric Copeland,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Doobie Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Camouflage,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bootsy Collins,
Urselle,
Blake Baxter,
The Five Americans,
The Pop Group,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eli Mardock,
Alton Ellis,
X-102,
Tropical Tobacco,
Silicon Teens,
Circle Jerks,
Don Cherry,
Warsaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Excepter,
The Last Poets,
Swans,
The Fortunes,
Skriet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boz Scaggs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Residents,
Arcadia,
Lindisfarne,
The United States of America,
Delon & Dalcan,
Desert Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
Agitation Free,
Guru Guru,
Supertramp,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.