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 Romania and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes 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 Zapp to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Pagans,
Cecil Taylor,
Y Pants,
Grauzone,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hot Snakes,
The Trojans,
Barry Ungar,
The Divine Comedy,
Ornette Coleman,
Massinfluence,
H. Thieme,
Wally Richardson,
David McCallum,
Tim Buckley,
The Star Department,
Kerri Chandler,
The Blues Magoos,
Scion,
Drive Like Jehu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
L. Decosne,
Duran Duran,
Thee Headcoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantytec,
The Moleskins,
Motorama,
The Grass Roots,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Moon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Susan Cadogan,
the Germs,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wasted Youth,
Anakelly,
The Associates,
The Gap Band,
The Victims,
Visage,
Oblivians,
Hashim,
Minor Threat,
Mandrill,
The Smiths,
The Doors,
Absolute Body Control,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Birthday Party,
Severed Heads,
Deakin,
Scan 7,
Lucky Dragons,
Albert Ayler,
Don Cherry,
X-101,
Ronnie Foster,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.