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 Thailand and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator 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 Althea and Donna to the funk 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joe Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tres Demented,
Trumans Water,
These Immortal Souls,
Scott Walker,
Arcadia,
Curtis Mayfield,
E-Dancer,
Siglo XX,
Yaz,
Heaven 17,
Adolescents,
Mary Jane Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Faraquet,
OOIOO,
Peter and Kerry,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bang On A Can,
Archie Shepp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Associates,
The Monochrome Set,
Liliput,
Blossom Toes,
Ituana,
The Barracudas,
Electric Prunes,
Nas,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gories,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nik Kershaw,
Wolf Eyes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joey Negro,
Theoretical Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Motorama,
The Residents,
Franke,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Godley & Creme,
Alison Limerick,
The Golliwogs,
John Foxx,
Blancmange,
Derrick May,
The Fortunes,
Josef K,
Avey Tare,
Joyce Sims,
Country Teasers,
Swell Maps,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.