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 Tunisia and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Alarm Clocks,
Liliput,
The Moleskins,
Wolf Eyes,
Minor Threat,
Bauhaus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Associates,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Bananas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lightning Bolt,
The Golliwogs,
The Young Rascals,
Fad Gadget,
UT,
Qualms,
The Moody Blues,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bad Manners,
Fat Boys,
Gang Starr,
Pagans,
Minnie Riperton,
Erykah Badu,
Circle Jerks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monks,
Easy Going,
Groovy Waters,
Bizarre Inc.,
U.S. Maple,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eve St. Jones,
The Techniques,
Malaria!,
Ultravox,
Black Sheep,
The Angels of Light,
Black Flag,
Aural Exciters,
Alphaville,
The Gap Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeff Mills,
Marvin Gaye,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deakin,
John Cale,
Ossler,
ABBA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bush Tetras,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-102,
Fluxion,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül II,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marine Girls,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.