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 Indonesia and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Popol Vuh to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 snare and a güiro 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 organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
David McCallum,
Los Fastidios,
Pere Ubu,
Scratch Acid,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slave,
Masters at Work,
The Techniques,
Loose Ends,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Absolute Body Control,
The Invisible,
Cluster,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ronan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Malaria!,
Agitation Free,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Metal Thangz,
Amon Düül II,
Spoonie Gee,
Sight & Sound,
Wally Richardson,
This Heat,
Ken Boothe,
Tres Demented,
Arab on Radar,
Sister Nancy,
Steve Hackett,
Sam Rivers,
Skaos,
The Golliwogs,
Pierre Henry,
Panda Bear,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Birthday Party,
Oblivians,
Tubeway Army,
Moebius,
Iggy Pop,
Bob Dylan,
Jacques Brel,
FM Einheit,
Slick Rick,
Howard Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Clear Light,
Dead Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
K-Klass,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
Letta Mbulu,
New Age Steppers,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.