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 Dominica and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Maurizio to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Near,
The Sound,
The Monks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bush Tetras,
The Modern Lovers,
Whodini,
Joe Smooth,
Desert Stars,
Boz Scaggs,
H. Thieme,
X-101,
Oneida,
The Fugs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Procol Harum,
Lakeside,
Jacques Brel,
Echospace,
Angry Samoans,
New York Dolls,
Slave,
Crash Course in Science,
Circle Jerks,
Scion,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
Infiniti,
The Slackers,
Unrelated Segments,
Groovy Waters,
One Last Wish,
Gang of Four,
Au Pairs,
Archie Shepp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fear,
Goldenarms,
The Techniques,
Glenn Branca,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
Roger Hodgson,
The Star Department,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Beau Brummels,
Y Pants,
Godley & Creme,
The Birthday Party,
Urselle,
Eve St. Jones,
Dark Day,
Outsiders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Theoretical Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Quadrant,
Drive Like Jehu,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.