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 Tuvalu and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Television 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABBA,
Blake Baxter,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Underground Resistance,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Smoke,
Godley & Creme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scott Walker,
Cymande,
Scientists,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Circle Jerks,
Aswad,
L. Decosne,
The Misunderstood,
Scion,
the Soft Cell,
H. Thieme,
Das Ding,
AZ,
DJ Style,
Man Eating Sloth,
a-ha,
Icehouse,
Bizarre Inc.,
Babytalk,
Donald Byrd,
Maleditus Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Fear,
John Holt,
Oneida,
Stiv Bators,
Kevin Saunderson,
T.S.O.L.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
F. McDonald,
Susan Cadogan,
Hashim,
Eden Ahbez,
Glenn Branca,
Don Cherry,
Basic Channel,
Terry Callier,
Barbara Tucker,
Goldenarms,
Angry Samoans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barry Ungar,
Juan Atkins,
Wasted Youth,
Dave Gahan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Model 500,
The Doobie Brothers,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.