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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
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 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 Robert Palmer 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 Swans to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb 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 linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Black Flag,
Adolescents,
Urselle,
Surgeon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zero Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scrapy,
Gang Starr,
Symarip,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moody Blues,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Teasers,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Slackers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
48th St. Collective,
The Evens,
Quadrant,
Spandau Ballet,
Blossom Toes,
Smog,
Fugazi,
Neu!,
Excepter,
Pantaleimon,
The Move,
Niagra,
Icehouse,
Ludus,
Bronski Beat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
JFA,
The Offenders,
Morten Harket,
Eli Mardock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Litter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lightning Bolt,
John Cale,
Sun Ra,
Lungfish,
Whodini,
The Star Department,
Brothers Johnson,
Fat Boys,
The Stooges,
cv313,
Radiohead,
The Selecter,
Heaven 17,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
China Crisis,
Soft Machine,
T. Rex,
D'Angelo,
Scratch Acid,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.