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 Luxembourg and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Stockholm Monsters to the dance 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
The Modern Lovers,
Pierre Henry,
Basic Channel,
John Holt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Albert Ayler,
Lindisfarne,
The Victims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gichy Dan,
Mark Hollis,
Pole,
John Coltrane,
Roxy Music,
Stereo Dub,
John Foxx,
Minor Threat,
Soul II Soul,
Wings,
Robert Hood,
Unwound,
Swell Maps,
Roger Hodgson,
Tres Demented,
Amon Düül II,
Arab on Radar,
Scrapy,
The Seeds,
Organ,
Porter Ricks,
Fela Kuti,
Hot Snakes,
Animal Collective,
Warsaw,
Sight & Sound,
EPMD,
The Birthday Party,
Susan Cadogan,
Average White Band,
Soft Cell,
Joensuu 1685,
Audionom,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Piero Umiliani,
Pere Ubu,
Sam Rivers,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
Erykah Badu,
The Offenders,
Aaron Thompson,
June Days,
X-102,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Unrelated Segments,
The Angels of Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wire,
Kurtis Blow,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.