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 Nicaragua and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Y Pants to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Can,
The Tremeloes,
Echospace,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rapeman,
Lower 48,
Kurtis Blow,
Fad Gadget,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blancmange,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moby Grape,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mad Mike,
U.S. Maple,
Tres Demented,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skarface,
Von Mondo,
Desert Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Little Man,
Sonic Youth,
The American Breed,
Morten Harket,
Blossom Toes,
The Music Machine,
Roxette,
Donny Hathaway,
The Walker Brothers,
The Monochrome Set,
New Age Steppers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fear,
Television,
Yaz,
Ornette Coleman,
Pagans,
Quantec,
Godley & Creme,
Lucky Dragons,
Glambeats Corp.,
James White and The Blacks,
The Searchers,
DJ Sneak,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DNA,
Scratch Acid,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pussy Galore,
Mars,
Pere Ubu,
Scott Walker,
Slave,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Qualms,
Delta 5,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blake Baxter,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.