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 Vietnam and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Lou Christie to the punk 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
K-Klass,
The Standells,
Rites of Spring,
The Invisible,
Mandrill,
the Bar-Kays,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ossler,
Porter Ricks,
Skaos,
Stockholm Monsters,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Johnny Osbourne,
Procol Harum,
Theoretical Girls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
cv313,
The Misunderstood,
Circle Jerks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Index,
The Busters,
Vainqueur,
Minutemen,
FM Einheit,
Fatback Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Faust,
The Blues Magoos,
The Wake,
Judy Mowatt,
Blake Baxter,
The Fortunes,
New York Dolls,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Urselle,
DJ Sneak,
The Red Krayola,
X-Ray Spex,
Second Layer,
Dual Sessions,
The Velvet Underground,
Wasted Youth,
Duran Duran,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Whodini,
The Alarm Clocks,
Trumans Water,
Roxette,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fear,
Franke,
Donald Byrd,
Skarface,
Harmonia,
Boz Scaggs,
H. Thieme,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.