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 Yemen and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Altered Images to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord 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 arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Don Cherry,
Crooked Eye,
The Martian,
The Kinks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Lynne,
Vainqueur,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crash Course in Science,
Nico,
The Moody Blues,
Excepter,
Kurtis Blow,
Banda Bassotti,
Gerry Rafferty,
Drive Like Jehu,
Roger Hodgson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reuben Wilson,
Livin' Joy,
Soft Cell,
Masters at Work,
Organ,
Cameo,
Agent Orange,
MC5,
Yusef Lateef,
Ronnie Foster,
Magma,
the Association,
Clear Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
New Age Steppers,
Schoolly D,
The Gun Club,
Arab on Radar,
Tres Demented,
Chrome,
Graham Central Station,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
LL Cool J,
Underground Resistance,
Roxy Music,
Absolute Body Control,
Ossler,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hoover,
Lalann,
Anakelly,
Sugar Minott,
Derrick Morgan,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.