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 New Zealand and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Crime to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord 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 mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Funky Four + One,
Neil Young,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
48th St. Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
EPMD,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sam Rivers,
Saccharine Trust,
In Retrospect,
The Velvet Underground,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crash Course in Science,
Tommy Roe,
Harry Pussy,
Mr. Review,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Patti Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sparks,
Jesper Dahlback,
June of 44,
Hasil Adkins,
Wally Richardson,
Silicon Teens,
Bob Dylan,
Scott Walker,
Accadde A,
Monks,
Arab on Radar,
The Standells,
Interpol,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ludus,
the Association,
Archie Shepp,
Cecil Taylor,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Walker Brothers,
K-Klass,
Byron Stingily,
Toni Rubio,
Lalo Schifrin,
Second Layer,
Kaleidoscope,
Panda Bear,
The Cure,
Barrington Levy,
Stetsasonic,
Swans,
The Searchers,
ABC,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
Dawn Penn,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.