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 Kuwait and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Red Krayola to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 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 synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
K-Klass,
This Heat,
Godley & Creme,
Rapeman,
Y Pants,
Subhumans,
The Sound,
Infiniti,
Alphaville,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Knickerbockers,
The Vogues,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chrome,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
The Motions,
June of 44,
Buzzcocks,
The Move,
Bronski Beat,
Bill Near,
Bobby Byrd,
Loose Ends,
Henry Cow,
Skarface,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers,
Ohio Players,
Pantytec,
The Litter,
Depeche Mode,
David McCallum,
Albert Ayler,
Funky Four + One,
Magma,
Model 500,
The Wake,
Mantronix,
Au Pairs,
Stiv Bators,
The Modern Lovers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
X-102,
Amon Düül,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Womack,
Theoretical Girls,
Harmonia,
Marc Almond,
The Gladiators,
Sandy B,
Eve St. Jones,
Interpol,
Eric Copeland,
Glenn Branca,
The Raincoats,
Deadbeat,
Danielle Patucci,
Tom Boy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.