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 Belgium and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Young Marble Giants to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum 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 spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
The New Christs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Andrew Hill,
Ultravox,
Agent Orange,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Easy Going,
Tim Buckley,
Bang On A Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Urselle,
Gichy Dan,
Marmalade,
The Techniques,
The Evens,
The Saints,
Royal Trux,
Max Romeo,
Vainqueur,
Nico,
Slick Rick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
ABBA,
Alison Limerick,
Frankie Knuckles,
Big Daddy Kane,
Niagra,
Panda Bear,
Guru Guru,
Quadrant,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Cale,
the Slits,
Radiopuhelimet,
48th St. Collective,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Drive Like Jehu,
Clear Light,
The Dave Clark Five,
Goldenarms,
The Pop Group,
Hardrive,
The Standells,
Kerri Chandler,
K-Klass,
DJ Style,
The Fuzztones,
Bad Manners,
The Barracudas,
Von Mondo,
Little Man,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nation of Ulysses,
F. McDonald,
Boz Scaggs,
Faust,
Skarface,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.