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 Mali and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Qualms to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Urselle,
Wolf Eyes,
Grauzone,
Peter and Kerry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Byron Stingily,
the Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
The Wake,
X-102,
The Knickerbockers,
Smog,
Lucky Dragons,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Skarface,
Whodini,
Amon Düül,
KRS-One,
The Real Kids,
Maurizio,
Panda Bear,
Cheater Slicks,
David Axelrod,
Camouflage,
Cluster,
Quantec,
Technova,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wasted Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
The Associates,
Minnie Riperton,
FM Einheit,
La Düsseldorf,
LL Cool J,
Unrelated Segments,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Inner City,
Iggy Pop,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Index,
Scratch Acid,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Piero Umiliani,
Sex Pistols,
Brick,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rakim,
Skaos,
Wings,
The Music Machine,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marmalade,
Jawbox,
Albert Ayler,
John Holt,
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.