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 Venezuela and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Danielle Patucci to the rock 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Invisible,
Grey Daturas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric Copeland,
Deadbeat,
Groovy Waters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Qualms,
The Martian,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Wake,
Sight & Sound,
The Residents,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick May,
Tomorrow,
The Birthday Party,
Barbara Tucker,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
the Association,
Ponytail,
The Five Americans,
Michelle Simonal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Motions,
Banda Bassotti,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
E-Dancer,
Pagans,
Scratch Acid,
Spandau Ballet,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Christie,
Kaleidoscope,
Visage,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eli Mardock,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
Outsiders,
The Smiths,
Bauhaus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Magazine,
CMW,
Maleditus Sound,
Amon Düül,
Pussy Galore,
Bob Dylan,
Tom Boy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lucky Dragons,
MDC,
KRS-One,
Con Funk Shun,
Colin Newman,
The Fuzztones,
Toni Rubio,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane 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.