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 Belgium and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeff Mills to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Lucky Dragons,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Byrd,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Carl Craig,
Subhumans,
Graham Central Station,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
ABBA,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tom Boy,
The Black Dice,
The American Breed,
The Fugs,
Janne Schatter,
Cecil Taylor,
Ituana,
Moebius,
Schoolly D,
The Fortunes,
Circle Jerks,
Hot Snakes,
Radiohead,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
Smog,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nirvana,
Swans,
Pylon,
Tommy Roe,
Dave Gahan,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
Todd Terry,
Spoonie Gee,
The Techniques,
Kurtis Blow,
Andrew Hill,
The Moody Blues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camouflage,
The Golliwogs,
Urselle,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kas Product,
Ohio Players,
This Heat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Human League,
Terry Callier,
Simply Red,
DJ Style,
Faust,
Spandau Ballet,
New Order,
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.