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 Belize and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
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 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Animal Collective 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
Make Up,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
A Certain Ratio,
Jacques Brel,
The Buckinghams,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultra Naté,
Flipper,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Durutti Column,
La Düsseldorf,
the Germs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
F. McDonald,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Interpol,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Fatback Band,
Das Ding,
Joe Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
Ken Boothe,
Agent Orange,
Negative Approach,
John Foxx,
Boredoms,
Blancmange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Royal Trux,
cv313,
Au Pairs,
Brand Nubian,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Christie,
The Index,
Sarah Menescal,
Wally Richardson,
The Star Department,
UT,
X-102,
The Birthday Party,
Suicide,
Black Flag,
James White and The Blacks,
New Age Steppers,
Kerri Chandler,
Fluxion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hasil Adkins,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.