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 Lesotho and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 X-101 to the jazz 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dead C,
The Birthday Party,
Brothers Johnson,
Mo-Dettes,
Easy Going,
Sällskapet,
Arab on Radar,
Lungfish,
The Knickerbockers,
Grauzone,
The Blues Magoos,
DJ Style,
Kerri Chandler,
Bob Dylan,
The Cowsills,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Martian,
Cymande,
Can,
Vladislav Delay,
Das Ding,
Dorothy Ashby,
Girls At Our Best!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oblivians,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Moon,
Massinfluence,
Colin Newman,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Techniques,
Jeff Mills,
Erykah Badu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Intrusion,
Sun City Girls,
Adolescents,
Suburban Knight,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantaleimon,
The Electric Prunes,
Soft Cell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Junior Murvin,
The Fortunes,
Camouflage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Oneida,
Deadbeat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mad Mike,
The Barracudas,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lakeside,
Y Pants,
Subhumans,
Jacques Brel,
Man Parrish,
Talk Talk,
JFA,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.