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 Uganda and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Doobie Brothers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T.S.O.L.,
Agitation Free,
Slick Rick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amazonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris & Cosey,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thee Headcoats,
Das Ding,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Sherman,
Reuben Wilson,
Oblivians,
Stiv Bators,
Letta Mbulu,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Harry Pussy,
Morten Harket,
Mr. Review,
The Moody Blues,
Michelle Simonal,
Alton Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
Josef K,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Q65,
Unrelated Segments,
Trumans Water,
DNA,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
The Divine Comedy,
The Martian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Camouflage,
Mad Mike,
the Sonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Masters at Work,
Connie Case,
Ice-T,
John Coltrane,
Mark Hollis,
Joey Negro,
Bauhaus,
Susan Cadogan,
Derrick May,
The Wake,
Lee Hazlewood,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.