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 Switzerland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes 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 The Moody Blues to the grunge 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a snare 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 marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
The Invisible,
DJ Style,
Bootsy Collins,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultra Naté,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
EPMD,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Sonics,
The Evens,
Scan 7,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Traffic Nightmare,
Swans,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Junior Murvin,
Suicide,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Andrew Hill,
Infiniti,
Khruangbin,
The Modern Lovers,
48th St. Collective,
Brick,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fire Engines,
Graham Central Station,
DJ Sneak,
Gang Green,
Joyce Sims,
Mr. Review,
The Doors,
Bang On A Can,
Grauzone,
David McCallum,
Gang Starr,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Alison Limerick,
Royal Trux,
B.T. Express,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Sherman,
Q65,
Cymande,
The Electric Prunes,
the Normal,
Slick Rick,
Buzzcocks,
The Angels of Light,
Ten City,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yazoo,
Slave,
Eurythmics,
Susan Cadogan,
Toni Rubio,
The Dirtbombs,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.