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 Brazil and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Piero Umiliani to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling 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?
the Human League,
Gichy Dan,
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terry Callier,
H. Thieme,
Derrick Morgan,
Eurythmics,
The American Breed,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lindisfarne,
the Fania All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Barry Ungar,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wally Richardson,
Main Source,
Urselle,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
Franke,
CMW,
Bluetip,
Bad Manners,
The Cowsills,
Quantec,
Gang of Four,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Leaves,
The Last Poets,
Nick Fraelich,
The Divine Comedy,
Minutemen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Darondo,
Funkadelic,
Motorama,
The Martian,
Don Cherry,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Icehouse,
Bauhaus,
Lyres,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shoche,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Second Layer,
Dennis Brown,
F. McDonald,
Archie Shepp,
Roxy Music,
ABBA,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.