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 Tonga and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Foxx to the dance 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Suicide,
B.T. Express,
Pussy Galore,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Sound,
Quadrant,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Enemy,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris Corsano,
The Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Wire,
Black Sheep,
Max Romeo,
Yaz,
Kenny Larkin,
Loose Ends,
UT,
Rekid,
John Holt,
48th St. Collective,
Alison Limerick,
Pantytec,
Trumans Water,
Flash Fearless,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jawbox,
Isaac Hayes,
The Knickerbockers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-101,
DJ Style,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mission of Burma,
Visage,
Siglo XX,
The Remains,
Magma,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Golliwogs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tomorrow,
The Mummies,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Radiohead,
The Velvet Underground,
the Sonics,
The Index,
Marine Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brick,
The Zeros,
Scratch Acid,
The Walker Brothers,
Con Funk Shun,
Yellowson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.