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 Nicaragua and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Can to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 a marimba and a spring reverb 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Gabor Szabo,
the Sonics,
Suburban Knight,
The Dead C,
8 Eyed Spy,
Man Eating Sloth,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
Icehouse,
Peter and Kerry,
Pole,
Rapeman,
This Heat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Isaac Hayes,
Angry Samoans,
Lungfish,
Y Pants,
Minor Threat,
Aloha Tigers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun City Girls,
Unwound,
Crooked Eye,
Los Fastidios,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sarah Menescal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mantronix,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gastr Del Sol,
Radio Birdman,
Lalann,
Bobby Byrd,
Bauhaus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Golliwogs,
KRS-One,
Little Man,
Dawn Penn,
Ten City,
Public Enemy,
Buzzcocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Standells,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
Howard Jones,
Henry Cow,
Danielle Patucci,
The Birthday Party,
Severed Heads,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
Fad Gadget,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.