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 Turkey and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Angry Samoans to the grime 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe 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 chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Judy Mowatt,
Brass Construction,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sarah Menescal,
Slick Rick,
Accadde A,
David Bowie,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Funkadelic,
Pantaleimon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Symarip,
Rapeman,
Eric Copeland,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scientists,
Tomorrow,
Dennis Brown,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Almond,
8 Eyed Spy,
Motorama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Glenn Branca,
Easy Going,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Mills,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ice-T,
Cameo,
The Wake,
Talk Talk,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Circle Jerks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Stooges,
Gang Green,
The Star Department,
Bang On A Can,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Birthday Party,
Dawn Penn,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
R.M.O.,
Monolake,
Heaven 17,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Siglo XX,
The Electric Prunes,
Don Cherry,
Arab on Radar,
Schoolly D,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.