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 Nauru and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 The Angels of Light to the techno 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Japan,
Bobby Byrd,
Jacob Miller,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
ABC,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
LL Cool J,
Nick Fraelich,
Angry Samoans,
Steve Hackett,
Faraquet,
The Fuzztones,
The Gladiators,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stiv Bators,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Copeland,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Standells,
FM Einheit,
Lalo Schifrin,
Skarface,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television Personalities,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arthur Verocai,
Camouflage,
Minny Pops,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Görl,
Gang Gang Dance,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang of Four,
Freddie Wadling,
Groovy Waters,
Ronan,
Severed Heads,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
AZ,
The United States of America,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bush Tetras,
The Selecter,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Theoretical Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
OOIOO,
Masters at Work,
Can,
Isaac Hayes,
Guru Guru,
Leonard Cohen,
Procol Harum,
Boredoms,
The Index,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Desert Stars,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.