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 Mozambique and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the grunge 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Don Cherry,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sonics,
The Names,
Matthew Bourne,
Tim Buckley,
The Invisible,
Symarip,
cv313,
Porter Ricks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Heaven 17,
Nick Fraelich,
Q65,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Evens,
Con Funk Shun,
Tears for Fears,
Marc Almond,
Subhumans,
Eli Mardock,
The Knickerbockers,
Bad Manners,
Sugar Minott,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minutemen,
Chris Corsano,
Ten City,
Jacques Brel,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex,
Hardrive,
the Fania All-Stars,
Carl Craig,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rekid,
Sun City Girls,
Man Parrish,
The Victims,
ABBA,
Tubeway Army,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wally Richardson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Public Enemy,
Urselle,
The Dead C,
Jerry's Kids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joe Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
The Divine Comedy,
Quantec,
Skarface,
The Electric Prunes,
The Barracudas,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.