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 Afghanistan and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the crunk 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sixth Finger,
Thompson Twins,
Can,
F. McDonald,
The Cowsills,
Sex Pistols,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Residents,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sarah Menescal,
Visage,
Bob Dylan,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
In Retrospect,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Steve Hackett,
Sparks,
World's Most,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Public Enemy,
Vainqueur,
Lou Christie,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Wells,
Eddi Front,
Accadde A,
Talk Talk,
Bluetip,
Zero Boys,
Parry Music,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mandrill,
Dark Day,
The J.B.'s,
Black Moon,
Isaac Hayes,
MC5,
The Slackers,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
The American Breed,
China Crisis,
Section 25,
Maleditus Sound,
Cybotron,
John Lydon,
Soul II Soul,
Lee Hazlewood,
Reuben Wilson,
The Offenders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Q65,
ABC,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.