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 Hungary and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Doobie Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Sex Pistols,
Q and Not U,
Quadrant,
Blancmange,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ken Boothe,
Das Ding,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mission of Burma,
Minny Pops,
The New Christs,
Organ,
The Names,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Birthday Party,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skarface,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gregory Isaacs,
New Age Steppers,
Yazoo,
Eric Dolphy,
Marc Almond,
Pole,
Gastr Del Sol,
Supertramp,
L. Decosne,
The Fortunes,
Kaleidoscope,
The Offenders,
Pharoah Sanders,
Buzzcocks,
the Normal,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alice Coltrane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
B.T. Express,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sarah Menescal,
Robert Hood,
Jeff Mills,
Young Marble Giants,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ten City,
JFA,
Steve Hackett,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tim Buckley,
The Happenings,
the Human League,
The Saints,
Tom Boy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
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.