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 Philippines and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Woodstock.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the dance 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Grauzone,
Siglo XX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun City Girls,
Massinfluence,
Warsaw,
The Kinks,
Andrew Hill,
Ossler,
The Red Krayola,
Scott Walker,
Peter & Gordon,
Sparks,
Idris Muhammad,
Au Pairs,
Roy Ayers,
Intrusion,
Jacques Brel,
World's Most,
Arthur Verocai,
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Dave Gahan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Outsiders,
The Raincoats,
Harry Pussy,
Ronan,
The Searchers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Last Poets,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Techniques,
Jawbox,
Pole,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Reuben Wilson,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lungfish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brass Construction,
Buzzcocks,
Theoretical Girls,
Iggy Pop,
One Last Wish,
The Zeros,
Khruangbin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yusef Lateef,
Blancmange,
Joe Finger,
Anthony Braxton,
Dennis Brown,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.