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 Afghanistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Aloha Tigers to the grunge 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Donny Hathaway,
Kayak,
Hashim,
Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
The Zeros,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camberwell Now,
Main Source,
The Fugs,
Schoolly D,
The Toasters,
Jandek,
The Blues Magoos,
The Black Dice,
KRS-One,
The Victims,
Moebius,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Negative Approach,
Stockholm Monsters,
T.S.O.L.,
The Five Americans,
Judy Mowatt,
The Slackers,
Michelle Simonal,
Shuggie Otis,
Glambeats Corp.,
The American Breed,
World's Most,
Howard Jones,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Livin' Joy,
Leonard Cohen,
The Remains,
Mad Mike,
Soulsonic Force,
Unrelated Segments,
Tres Demented,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
The Cosmic Jokers,
LL Cool J,
Can,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Pus,
The Star Department,
Crooked Eye,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
FM Einheit,
Brothers Johnson,
The Monochrome Set,
Audionom,
The Standells,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.