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 Armenia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 the Fania All-Stars to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a güiro 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 linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Gabor Szabo,
The Zeros,
Lindisfarne,
Pierre Henry,
Monks,
The Last Poets,
Clear Light,
the Human League,
L. Decosne,
Sight & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yusef Lateef,
Suicide,
T. Rex,
Amazonics,
Patti Smith,
Simply Red,
Cybotron,
Joe Finger,
Shoche,
Howard Jones,
Peter and Kerry,
Barbara Tucker,
Underground Resistance,
Soft Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
World's Most,
Model 500,
Eric Copeland,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barry Ungar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Slick Rick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pulsallama,
Audionom,
Jawbox,
Youth Brigade,
Gang of Four,
Bluetip,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mission of Burma,
Groovy Waters,
Malaria!,
Robert Wyatt,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
Jeff Lynne,
F. McDonald,
The Invisible,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The United States of America,
E-Dancer,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.