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 Ukraine and from Mumbai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the funk 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fat Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Echospace,
The Cure,
Skriet,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slits,
Robert Wyatt,
Albert Ayler,
Nirvana,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warsaw,
Ponytail,
James White and The Blacks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gap Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Spoonie Gee,
Youth Brigade,
Grandmaster Flash,
Swans,
Shoche,
Bauhaus,
Ultravox,
Sight & Sound,
LL Cool J,
Faust,
Mark Hollis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yazoo,
Arthur Verocai,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nick Fraelich,
The Golliwogs,
Slick Rick,
The New Christs,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Vogues,
Newcleus,
The Zeros,
Minor Threat,
Symarip,
The Tremeloes,
Jacob Miller,
The Fuzztones,
Barry Ungar,
Joey Negro,
Excepter,
The Human League,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
Bill Near,
Desert Stars,
Television Personalities,
Dual Sessions,
Main Source,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.