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 Lebanon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar 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 Chris Corsano to the rap 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Schoolly D,
Franke,
Main Source,
One Last Wish,
Patti Smith,
MDC,
Tim Buckley,
June of 44,
Tom Boy,
Black Pus,
Au Pairs,
The Moody Blues,
K-Klass,
The Monochrome Set,
Visage,
Gang Starr,
Tres Demented,
Sandy B,
The Red Krayola,
Steve Hackett,
Mars,
The Dead C,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fear,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Divine Comedy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nico,
U.S. Maple,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lalo Schifrin,
JFA,
Intrusion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Move,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Audionom,
Fela Kuti,
Hashim,
The Knickerbockers,
Soft Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Offenders,
Soul II Soul,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Green,
Glenn Branca,
Drive Like Jehu,
Graham Central Station,
The Grass Roots,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Durutti Column,
Moss Icon,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cure,
Simply Red,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.