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 Canada and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Camouflage to the punk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans 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?
The Barracudas,
Minor Threat,
Index,
The Dead C,
Brand Nubian,
Avey Tare,
Funkadelic,
Eddi Front,
Alphaville,
Eden Ahbez,
Joey Negro,
Boredoms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lyres,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tres Demented,
Drive Like Jehu,
Laurel Aitken,
Das Ding,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marshall Jefferson,
Television,
Anakelly,
Interpol,
The Saints,
Easy Going,
Terry Callier,
The Slackers,
Skarface,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Altered Images,
Alison Limerick,
FM Einheit,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Supertramp,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cure,
Parry Music,
The Durutti Column,
The Leaves,
ABBA,
Ultra Naté,
Roy Ayers,
Talk Talk,
Henry Cow,
John Lydon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Grass Roots,
Rites of Spring,
Kayak,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Halsall,
John Cale,
The American Breed,
World's Most,
Pylon,
Quando Quango,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
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.