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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Saccharine Trust to the dance 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
In Retrospect,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mission of Burma,
Lalo Schifrin,
Todd Rundgren,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mojo Men,
R.M.O.,
The Sound,
FM Einheit,
A Certain Ratio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Procol Harum,
the Swans,
Isaac Hayes,
Cameo,
Leonard Cohen,
Charles Mingus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barrington Levy,
The Golliwogs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crime,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Sonics,
Derrick Morgan,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
Zero Boys,
Public Enemy,
Prince Buster,
Aaron Thompson,
Siglo XX,
the Soft Cell,
Mandrill,
The Evens,
LL Cool J,
Au Pairs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Junior Murvin,
DJ Sneak,
Maleditus Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Eating Sloth,
Groovy Waters,
Andrew Hill,
Donald Byrd,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donny Hathaway,
T.S.O.L.,
Darondo,
The Fall,
K-Klass,
Interpol,
Panda Bear,
The Move,
The Velvet Underground,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.