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 Ireland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Freddie Wadling to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 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 synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
The Doors,
Althea and Donna,
Accadde A,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mad Mike,
Theoretical Girls,
Khruangbin,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Offenders,
Banda Bassotti,
Franke,
Erasure,
the Germs,
Intrusion,
The Gun Club,
Freddie Wadling,
The Motions,
The Mojo Men,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Normal,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kayak,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Happenings,
Moebius,
Qualms,
Flipper,
Marvin Gaye,
The Star Department,
Interpol,
Magazine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-102,
Blancmange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Lakeside,
Skaos,
Grauzone,
Stetsasonic,
The Trojans,
T. Rex,
The Fuzztones,
John Foxx,
Public Image Ltd.,
Chris Corsano,
The Buckinghams,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Byrd,
The Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Supertramp,
Barbara Tucker,
Gerry Rafferty,
Quadrant,
the Soft Cell,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.