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 Morocco and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Residents to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Tommy Roe,
Scrapy,
Panda Bear,
Lalann,
June of 44,
Crime,
Skaos,
John Cale,
The Electric Prunes,
Crooked Eye,
Jeff Lynne,
D'Angelo,
John Lydon,
Johnny Clarke,
Tears for Fears,
In Retrospect,
F. McDonald,
The Red Krayola,
Symarip,
New York Dolls,
Pantytec,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Birthday Party,
The Monochrome Set,
Excepter,
Cluster,
Tom Boy,
Angry Samoans,
The Fall,
James White and The Blacks,
Brand Nubian,
R.M.O.,
John Foxx,
Sex Pistols,
Trumans Water,
The Angels of Light,
Soul II Soul,
Dave Gahan,
Zero Boys,
Negative Approach,
Sight & Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun Ra,
Guru Guru,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Copeland,
Eve St. Jones,
Man Eating Sloth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Mummies,
Glenn Branca,
The Cowsills,
DJ Sneak,
Dawn Penn,
Sarah Menescal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
Newcleus,
Ice-T,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.