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 Bahrain and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eddi Front to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a harpsichord 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 marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash,
Absolute Body Control,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Reagan Youth,
The Tremeloes,
Maleditus Sound,
Sex Pistols,
The Evens,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Coltrane,
Skarface,
Cluster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Masters at Work,
Aaron Thompson,
a-ha,
Tom Boy,
Loose Ends,
MDC,
Lee Hazlewood,
Television,
Procol Harum,
Second Layer,
Lightning Bolt,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dawn Penn,
The Misunderstood,
Max Romeo,
Joensuu 1685,
Lebanon Hanover,
Motorama,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Boredoms,
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Hood,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moleskins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Toasters,
The Fuzztones,
The Moody Blues,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bronski Beat,
Eddi Front,
Trumans Water,
The Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
Rapeman,
Slave,
Joy Division,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.