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 Morocco and from London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 a-ha to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sparks,
Liliput,
Slave,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quadrant,
The Moleskins,
Echospace,
Henry Cow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cheater Slicks,
Brick,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Quantec,
Bill Wells,
Surgeon,
Ken Boothe,
The Red Krayola,
K-Klass,
The Moody Blues,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Carl Craig,
Dorothy Ashby,
48th St. Collective,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pagans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Josef K,
Suicide,
Half Japanese,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Seeds,
Mandrill,
Television,
Pharoah Sanders,
In Retrospect,
Aural Exciters,
Neu!,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry's Kids,
The Wake,
Q and Not U,
Symarip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Metal Thangz,
The Dead C,
June Days,
The Mojo Men,
Qualms,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Index,
Royal Trux,
The Cramps,
Black Bananas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lightning Bolt,
JFA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bronski Beat,
Gang of Four,
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.