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 Iraq and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Panda Bear to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Television,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cowsills,
The Golliwogs,
The Skatalites,
Dead Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
The Gladiators,
Minor Threat,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gap Band,
Bronski Beat,
Saccharine Trust,
Wire,
Big Daddy Kane,
Carl Craig,
The United States of America,
Minnie Riperton,
Gichy Dan,
Wings,
Joe Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
Tropical Tobacco,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Basic Channel,
The Fugs,
Bad Manners,
Pantytec,
Loose Ends,
Ponytail,
The Sonics,
Cameo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Simply Red,
The Zeros,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wally Richardson,
The Busters,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tres Demented,
Cal Tjader,
Bush Tetras,
Panda Bear,
Roxy Music,
Nas,
Juan Atkins,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
The Blackbyrds,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arcadia,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacques Brel,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.