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 Seychelles and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Shoche to the jazz 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator 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 sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barrington Levy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric Dolphy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Skatalites,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fire Engines,
Chrome,
Vladislav Delay,
Slave,
Yusef Lateef,
Average White Band,
Charles Mingus,
Joy Division,
Babytalk,
Graham Central Station,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zero Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
The Fuzztones,
Banda Bassotti,
The Raincoats,
Television Personalities,
Jacob Miller,
E-Dancer,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Techniques,
the Soft Cell,
Cheater Slicks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monks,
Jerry's Kids,
Suicide,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dark Day,
LL Cool J,
Moby Grape,
EPMD,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Khruangbin,
Brand Nubian,
Agent Orange,
Bob Dylan,
Massinfluence,
Gang Starr,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Vogues,
Donny Hathaway,
Steve Hackett,
Quadrant,
Hardrive,
Lalann,
It's A Beautiful Day,
These Immortal Souls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Litter,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.