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 Colombia and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Das Ding to the electroclash 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Interpol,
Lungfish,
Make Up,
The Barracudas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Porter Ricks,
Jawbox,
The Toasters,
the Normal,
X-Ray Spex,
The Count Five,
Black Pus,
Agitation Free,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sister Nancy,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
Black Moon,
Young Marble Giants,
Mantronix,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Age Steppers,
Nirvana,
Pantaleimon,
Barbara Tucker,
Camberwell Now,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pierre Henry,
Man Parrish,
Yellowson,
a-ha,
Prince Buster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Modern Lovers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dual Sessions,
Drexciya,
Sällskapet,
EPMD,
Skaos,
DNA,
Blake Baxter,
The Standells,
Laurel Aitken,
Ponytail,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed,
Roxette,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Sherman,
The Grass Roots,
Excepter,
Dave Gahan,
Faraquet,
Thee Headcoats,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mars,
David McCallum,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal 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.