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 Slovakia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Toni Rubio to the punk 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
LL Cool J,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Byrd,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quando Quango,
Bill Near,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Byron Stingily,
Junior Murvin,
Crime,
T. Rex,
John Foxx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Juan Atkins,
Yaz,
Quadrant,
John Lydon,
Icehouse,
Magazine,
Mantronix,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stiv Bators,
New Age Steppers,
Half Japanese,
Symarip,
Bill Wells,
Con Funk Shun,
Banda Bassotti,
Adolescents,
Marc Almond,
E-Dancer,
Blancmange,
Visage,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moebius,
Pere Ubu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joey Negro,
Mr. Review,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Outsiders,
Parry Music,
John Cale,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultra Naté,
Trumans Water,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
In Retrospect,
Andrew Hill,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-Ray Spex,
Skaos,
Howard Jones,
Steve Hackett,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.