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 Tunisia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Minor Threat to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a L. Decosne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Brick,
ABBA,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Star Department,
Bob Dylan,
Ohio Players,
Simply Red,
Arthur Verocai,
Harmonia,
Yaz,
Scan 7,
Babytalk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
The Toasters,
Groovy Waters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Underground Resistance,
The Sound,
John Foxx,
The Fortunes,
Pulsallama,
Ultra Naté,
Kayak,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
The Durutti Column,
Cal Tjader,
Khruangbin,
The Red Krayola,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Pretty Things,
Procol Harum,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soulsonic Force,
Lyres,
Nik Kershaw,
Darondo,
The Monks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Wyatt,
Sam Rivers,
Don Cherry,
Aaron Thompson,
Theoretical Girls,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Monolake,
The Martian,
James White and The Blacks,
Hashim,
David McCallum,
Aloha Tigers,
Sixth Finger,
Iggy Pop,
Jeff Lynne,
Amon Düül,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.