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 Bahamas and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Barclay James Harvest to the grunge 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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,
Mandrill,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Camberwell Now,
Faraquet,
Aural Exciters,
Section 25,
Procol Harum,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
The Gories,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
R.M.O.,
The Misunderstood,
Alice Coltrane,
a-ha,
D'Angelo,
David Axelrod,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Martian,
Royal Trux,
The Cure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Techniques,
Gang Starr,
Popol Vuh,
Soft Cell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Fraelich,
The Grass Roots,
Matthew Bourne,
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
Jacques Brel,
Suicide,
Stereo Dub,
Lalann,
The Count Five,
The Skatalites,
The Smiths,
The Cowsills,
Iggy Pop,
Eli Mardock,
Charles Mingus,
Little Man,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Minor Threat,
Josef K,
Todd Rundgren,
Chrome,
The Toasters,
Supertramp,
Jeff Lynne,
Grey Daturas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.