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 Chad and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a 808 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Bananas,
Whodini,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
Guru Guru,
The Blues Magoos,
The Kinks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
EPMD,
Minnie Riperton,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Durutti Column,
Godley & Creme,
Toni Rubio,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Wells,
Joe Smooth,
Letta Mbulu,
Brick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Au Pairs,
The American Breed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Maleditus Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Spoonie Gee,
Ice-T,
Make Up,
The Evens,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Byron Stingily,
Judy Mowatt,
Trumans Water,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
June Days,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Malaria!,
The Smoke,
Visage,
Zapp,
T. Rex,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hardrive,
Deakin,
The Mummies,
Kurtis Blow,
The Skatalites,
Swell Maps,
Pet Shop Boys,
Girls At Our Best!,
Duran Duran,
Blossom Toes,
FM Einheit,
Don Cherry,
Accadde A,
Lucky Dragons,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.