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 Kosovo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Jeff Lynne to the jazz 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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Blake Baxter,
Mr. Review,
The Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
Black Pus,
Heaven 17,
Flipper,
The Vogues,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Shuggie Otis,
Amon Düül II,
Fugazi,
Mission of Burma,
Black Sheep,
Quantec,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Flesh Eaters,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pussy Galore,
Radiohead,
Unwound,
Cluster,
Barrington Levy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soul II Soul,
Johnny Osbourne,
Minutemen,
cv313,
Make Up,
The Gories,
Thompson Twins,
Magazine,
Dark Day,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cameo,
The Birthday Party,
One Last Wish,
The New Christs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June Days,
Prince Buster,
The Associates,
The Knickerbockers,
Toni Rubio,
Zapp,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Kinks,
Symarip,
Chris & Cosey,
Jawbox,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Last Poets,
Pylon,
The Victims,
The Saints,
Quadrant,
Brick,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.