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 Slovenia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wake to the dance 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Mojo Men,
Niagra,
Animal Collective,
The Young Rascals,
Kenny Larkin,
The Techniques,
The Searchers,
Arab on Radar,
The Seeds,
Marvin Gaye,
Stiv Bators,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Pretty Things,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
U.S. Maple,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mantronix,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Model 500,
Minnie Riperton,
Saccharine Trust,
Guru Guru,
Erasure,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Moody Blues,
The Real Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
DJ Style,
In Retrospect,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fuzztones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sex Pistols,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Wyatt,
Hasil Adkins,
Dead Boys,
Khruangbin,
Ludus,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABBA,
The Invisible,
June Days,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric B and Rakim,
David Bowie,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Durutti Column,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Human League,
The Victims,
Soulsonic Force,
Freddie Wadling,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
Nico,
Ponytail,
Boogie Down Productions,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.