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 Cambodia and from Halifax.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Lou Christie to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 arpeggiator 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
The Star Department,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Saints,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terry Callier,
The Blues Magoos,
FM Einheit,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Graham Central Station,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rod Modell,
Loose Ends,
Rites of Spring,
Ken Boothe,
Guru Guru,
Henry Cow,
Audionom,
Robert Görl,
Brass Construction,
The Red Krayola,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The United States of America,
Joyce Sims,
Todd Rundgren,
Lucky Dragons,
Glenn Branca,
Subhumans,
DJ Style,
Kevin Saunderson,
Technova,
Chris Corsano,
JFA,
Unwound,
Neu!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wings,
Bobby Sherman,
Peter and Kerry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pagans,
Connie Case,
Davy DMX,
Fat Boys,
Smog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Judy Mowatt,
Organ,
Clear Light,
Cal Tjader,
Model 500,
Jesper Dahlback,
Metal Thangz,
Reagan Youth,
The Standells,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ossler,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.