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 Luxembourg and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 New Age Steppers 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
The Seeds,
Smog,
Sun City Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Circle Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
The Wake,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Max Romeo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rosa Yemen,
The Standells,
Magazine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Khruangbin,
the Bar-Kays,
The Trojans,
Buzzcocks,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
The Angels of Light,
Chris & Cosey,
The Toasters,
Gang Green,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Josef K,
CMW,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fall,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cybotron,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra,
The Martian,
U.S. Maple,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tres Demented,
Grauzone,
Essential Logic,
Jacob Miller,
Radio Birdman,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Last Poets,
Spoonie Gee,
Vainqueur,
Youth Brigade,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angry Samoans,
Stetsasonic,
Kayak,
Roxy Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Remains,
Mr. Review,
Swell Maps,
Harry Pussy,
Charles Mingus,
Scientists,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.