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 Vanuatu and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Simply Red to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba 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 a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Circle Jerks,
The Cure,
Hashim,
Country Teasers,
Ken Boothe,
Neu!,
the Normal,
Television Personalities,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultra Naté,
Outsiders,
Juan Atkins,
Mr. Review,
Pantaleimon,
Althea and Donna,
Bluetip,
Unwound,
Dave Gahan,
Black Sheep,
The Slits,
DNA,
Grey Daturas,
The Neon Judgement,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moleskins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Blackbyrds,
Howard Jones,
EPMD,
Pylon,
Alton Ellis,
The Cramps,
Rufus Thomas,
Masters at Work,
Amon Düül,
Nik Kershaw,
X-101,
Donald Byrd,
Severed Heads,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Warsaw,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cal Tjader,
The Smiths,
Bill Wells,
Blossom Toes,
Lindisfarne,
Mark Hollis,
the Bar-Kays,
Camouflage,
Fear,
Davy DMX,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Danielle Patucci,
Robert Wyatt,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.