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 Andorra and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Black Pus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Animal Collective,
Vainqueur,
Erasure,
Massinfluence,
Kayak,
The Martian,
David McCallum,
Minutemen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sight & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
The Fire Engines,
Sam Rivers,
Althea and Donna,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Misunderstood,
U.S. Maple,
Black Bananas,
Boogie Down Productions,
OOIOO,
Lower 48,
Todd Rundgren,
Hashim,
Groovy Waters,
Newcleus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mr. Review,
Surgeon,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doors,
The Mojo Men,
Moss Icon,
The Remains,
Angry Samoans,
Mandrill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Five Americans,
Marvin Gaye,
Mars,
Blancmange,
New Age Steppers,
Mark Hollis,
A Certain Ratio,
Smog,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gabor Szabo,
Tim Buckley,
Sonic Youth,
Hardrive,
Deakin,
In Retrospect,
Grauzone,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.