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 Samoa and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Happenings to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro 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 rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
the Germs,
Marc Almond,
The Victims,
Peter and Kerry,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
The Doors,
Charles Mingus,
Tom Boy,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Surgeon,
The Cramps,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rekid,
The Moody Blues,
Boz Scaggs,
The American Breed,
Desert Stars,
Symarip,
Roxette,
Don Cherry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jandek,
The Zeros,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Accadde A,
Nirvana,
Albert Ayler,
KRS-One,
The Slits,
The Black Dice,
Average White Band,
LL Cool J,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
Kas Product,
Technova,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Camberwell Now,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Red Krayola,
Amazonics,
Man Parrish,
The Vogues,
Derrick May,
Shoche,
John Cale,
The Tremeloes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sister Nancy,
Franke,
10cc,
Skriet,
The Associates,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sparks,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.