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 Sudan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Faust to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Godley & Creme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Music Machine,
Fugazi,
The Blackbyrds,
Unrelated Segments,
The Buckinghams,
Tom Boy,
Aloha Tigers,
Arcadia,
Outsiders,
Hot Snakes,
Essential Logic,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Sherman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Panda Bear,
Barbara Tucker,
Boredoms,
Deepchord,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fuzztones,
Royal Trux,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
The Cramps,
Harmonia,
Joyce Sims,
The Young Rascals,
Yellowson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Davy DMX,
Mr. Review,
The Red Krayola,
New York Dolls,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joy Division,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Matthew Halsall,
Steve Hackett,
The Fortunes,
Radio Birdman,
Ultravox,
Black Pus,
Lyres,
Oblivians,
The Leaves,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camberwell Now,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
KRS-One,
The Smiths,
Warsaw,
June of 44,
Thompson Twins,
Animal Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.