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 Iran 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the punk 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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Mars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Procol Harum,
Sam Rivers,
Minor Threat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sex Pistols,
Carl Craig,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Connie Case,
Main Source,
Darondo,
June Days,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Charles Mingus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grauzone,
Swans,
Ossler,
Yazoo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Moby Grape,
James White and The Blacks,
Masters at Work,
FM Einheit,
The Smiths,
Nick Fraelich,
Wasted Youth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Metal Thangz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scion,
The Sound,
the Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
DJ Sneak,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Jandek,
Zapp,
Anakelly,
Matthew Bourne,
Arthur Verocai,
X-Ray Spex,
The Real Kids,
Magma,
Lakeside,
David Bowie,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Neon Judgement,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
the Bar-Kays,
Chris Corsano,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nils Olav,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.