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 Korea North and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 The Index to the punk 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
Icehouse,
Jandek,
Don Cherry,
EPMD,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Victims,
Lucky Dragons,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Wake,
Audionom,
Los Fastidios,
New York Dolls,
Technova,
Anthony Braxton,
The J.B.'s,
Grauzone,
F. McDonald,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Newcleus,
Sex Pistols,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Christie,
The Move,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
D'Angelo,
Jacob Miller,
The Blackbyrds,
Minny Pops,
Eric Copeland,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Smooth,
Rekid,
The Golliwogs,
Livin' Joy,
One Last Wish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ornette Coleman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Quadrant,
Oblivians,
Tubeway Army,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mad Mike,
The Gories,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rotary Connection,
Hashim,
Nik Kershaw,
New Age Steppers,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.