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 Taipei.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Freddie Wadling to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Grandmaster Flash,
Urselle,
Barbara Tucker,
Jawbox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Delon & Dalcan,
Circle Jerks,
Freddie Wadling,
Zapp,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Depeche Mode,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Hood,
Half Japanese,
Ponytail,
Cal Tjader,
Henry Cow,
John Foxx,
Crooked Eye,
Tim Buckley,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fuzztones,
The Residents,
Animal Collective,
The Fugs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ronan,
Kayak,
Graham Central Station,
Easy Going,
Pulsallama,
Radiohead,
Charles Mingus,
Sun City Girls,
Deadbeat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mission of Burma,
Minor Threat,
Howard Jones,
The Star Department,
The Buckinghams,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Christie,
the Human League,
Stockholm Monsters,
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Knickerbockers,
Minutemen,
Carl Craig,
Unwound,
Swans,
Camouflage,
Andrew Hill,
Scott Walker,
Hashim,
Black Flag,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.