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 Morocco and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kayak to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Cameo,
The Black Dice,
Yaz,
Echospace,
The Golliwogs,
Bill Wells,
U.S. Maple,
Faust,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minutemen,
The Modern Lovers,
Harry Pussy,
Fluxion,
Anthony Braxton,
Neil Young,
Clear Light,
Todd Rundgren,
the Normal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Procol Harum,
Lou Christie,
The Techniques,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
Roger Hodgson,
Ossler,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Motions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Slackers,
Erykah Badu,
Royal Trux,
48th St. Collective,
Colin Newman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
Bobby Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wings,
Cal Tjader,
Don Cherry,
Subhumans,
Scott Walker,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Pretty Things,
Motorama,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Evens,
Masters at Work,
Cluster,
Darondo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eden Ahbez,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.