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 Korea North and from Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet 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 Gang of Four to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Q65,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare,
Swell Maps,
Eric Dolphy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faust,
Das Ding,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neu!,
Marc Almond,
Stereo Dub,
Pole,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Goldenarms,
Delon & Dalcan,
Danielle Patucci,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Cheater Slicks,
John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
Pere Ubu,
H. Thieme,
Black Sheep,
Audionom,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
Con Funk Shun,
Ronan,
Black Flag,
Lou Reed,
The Music Machine,
Harmonia,
the Normal,
Subhumans,
Hot Snakes,
Drexciya,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ohio Players,
David Bowie,
Electric Prunes,
LL Cool J,
Faraquet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Niagra,
Yaz,
June of 44,
Flamin' Groovies,
Maleditus Sound,
Fat Boys,
The Raincoats,
The Standells,
Spandau Ballet,
John Holt,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.