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 Chile and from Philadelphia.
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 Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 June of 44 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Barry Ungar,
Sexual Harrassment,
Albert Ayler,
Carl Craig,
Outsiders,
Marine Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gories,
Mark Hollis,
Scientists,
Sällskapet,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
June Days,
Marcia Griffiths,
H. Thieme,
Los Fastidios,
These Immortal Souls,
Popol Vuh,
Althea and Donna,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joy Division,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Christie,
This Heat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The United States of America,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
China Crisis,
Fela Kuti,
Monolake,
Con Funk Shun,
Lalo Schifrin,
Metal Thangz,
Henry Cow,
MDC,
Brick,
The Gap Band,
Slave,
Cal Tjader,
Wolf Eyes,
Roxette,
The Tremeloes,
The Remains,
Harry Pussy,
Agitation Free,
The Walker Brothers,
Roxy Music,
Ice-T,
Bobby Womack,
Motorama,
Shoche,
Soul II Soul,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
Rekid,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dave Gahan,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.