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 Brunei and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Remains to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar 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 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Zero Boys,
The Litter,
Roxette,
Crash Course in Science,
Fifty Foot Hose,
cv313,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
U.S. Maple,
Oneida,
The Gories,
Fear,
Brick,
Josef K,
Gang Green,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Pus,
The Kinks,
Outsiders,
Babytalk,
UT,
Nils Olav,
Smog,
Heaven 17,
Kerri Chandler,
Erasure,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ludus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fat Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Angels of Light,
The Techniques,
The Buckinghams,
Popol Vuh,
Rapeman,
China Crisis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chrome,
A Certain Ratio,
The Blackbyrds,
Fluxion,
The Fuzztones,
Excepter,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Residents,
Brothers Johnson,
The Monks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Young Rascals,
Funkadelic,
The Zeros,
Terrestrial Tones,
Isaac Hayes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Order,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.