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 Cameroon and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 the Association to the electroclash 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Bush Tetras,
Stetsasonic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Shuggie Otis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cure,
UT,
Joensuu 1685,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
48th St. Collective,
The Tremeloes,
the Germs,
Joe Finger,
Michelle Simonal,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fat Boys,
Moebius,
The Fall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
Danielle Patucci,
Dawn Penn,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Oneida,
Agent Orange,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yellowson,
Mark Hollis,
X-Ray Spex,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Second Layer,
Scan 7,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Barracudas,
Quando Quango,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
B.T. Express,
Joe Smooth,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sound,
The Leaves,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agitation Free,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Infiniti,
Letta Mbulu,
ABC,
Terry Callier,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Lynne,
Amon Düül II,
Scientists,
X-102,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.