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 Latvia and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Roger Hodgson to the disco 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crooked Eye,
Thee Headcoats,
David Axelrod,
The Offenders,
Steve Hackett,
Bluetip,
Archie Shepp,
The Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
The Raincoats,
Visage,
Scrapy,
Davy DMX,
Pussy Galore,
48th St. Collective,
Schoolly D,
MDC,
The Gap Band,
Boredoms,
The Vogues,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Age Steppers,
Dawn Penn,
Supertramp,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Pop Group,
Kayak,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Motions,
Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eve St. Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tommy Roe,
Connie Case,
The Techniques,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Christie,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
10cc,
Wire,
Malaria!,
The Cowsills,
The Misunderstood,
Warsaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
Amon Düül II,
Intrusion,
Gang Green,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blancmange,
John Cale,
Marmalade,
The Fortunes,
Marvin Gaye,
Sonic Youth,
Severed Heads,
Arab on Radar,
Nas,
Radio Birdman,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.