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 Poland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 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 Byron Stingily to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin 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 oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Janne Schatter,
The Blues Magoos,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
Minor Threat,
The Remains,
The Evens,
Lyres,
Brothers Johnson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bush Tetras,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Y Pants,
Minnie Riperton,
La Düsseldorf,
Alphaville,
Kool Moe Dee,
Funkadelic,
The Gladiators,
Suicide,
Pulsallama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gories,
Andrew Hill,
Wasted Youth,
Livin' Joy,
Ronnie Foster,
kango's stein massive,
June of 44,
Aural Exciters,
Prince Buster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Iggy Pop,
the Association,
Nick Fraelich,
Deepchord,
Gong,
The Pop Group,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Popol Vuh,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Litter,
Whodini,
The Cowsills,
Vainqueur,
Tubeway Army,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jacques Brel,
Accadde A,
Wire,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
Eddi Front,
The Trojans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hoover,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.