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 Ireland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Man Parrish to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Magazine,
Funkadelic,
Boogie Down Productions,
One Last Wish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
June Days,
Barbara Tucker,
Delta 5,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marshall Jefferson,
The New Christs,
Todd Rundgren,
Trumans Water,
Model 500,
Roger Hodgson,
The Electric Prunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marmalade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
La Düsseldorf,
Peter & Gordon,
Man Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suicide,
The Gun Club,
Qualms,
Moss Icon,
The United States of America,
Peter and Kerry,
Y Pants,
48th St. Collective,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Copeland,
Rosa Yemen,
Sight & Sound,
Nico,
The Gories,
Depeche Mode,
Slick Rick,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blake Baxter,
Basic Channel,
Moebius,
Little Man,
The Wake,
The Pretty Things,
Vladislav Delay,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Arcadia,
Ludus,
Archie Shepp,
Steve Hackett,
Minny Pops,
Al Stewart,
Tubeway Army,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Can,
Fela Kuti,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.