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 Afghanistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator 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 Boredoms to the grunge 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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a theremin 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
June Days,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
The Real Kids,
X-101,
Liliput,
Bauhaus,
Bill Near,
The Human League,
Rakim,
Sun Ra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sun City Girls,
New Order,
Roxette,
R.M.O.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stereo Dub,
Robert Wyatt,
Qualms,
The Moody Blues,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skaos,
Hoover,
The Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
JFA,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rosa Yemen,
Wings,
Fluxion,
The Five Americans,
Harry Pussy,
Alice Coltrane,
Thee Headcoats,
Vainqueur,
John Holt,
Black Sheep,
Babytalk,
Fatback Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya,
Godley & Creme,
Duran Duran,
In Retrospect,
Gang of Four,
The Slits,
Thompson Twins,
The Star Department,
Black Pus,
One Last Wish,
a-ha,
The Fire Engines,
Interpol,
Ludus,
Eddi Front,
Arcadia,
Bootsy Collins,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.