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 Panama and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the rock 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ 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 a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Gladiators,
Janne Schatter,
Aaron Thompson,
The Invisible,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joy Division,
Wolf Eyes,
Das Ding,
Los Fastidios,
Derrick Morgan,
Judy Mowatt,
The Evens,
Yaz,
Scrapy,
Guru Guru,
Don Cherry,
Yusef Lateef,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
R.M.O.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Moon,
Lyres,
Lou Reed,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Lalann,
Fat Boys,
Second Layer,
Mantronix,
The Move,
Country Teasers,
Tomorrow,
Kerrie Biddell,
Accadde A,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mo-Dettes,
Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Popol Vuh,
Bronski Beat,
Marc Almond,
Animal Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
Minny Pops,
Moss Icon,
Rosa Yemen,
Brick,
Gang of Four,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Altered Images,
Man Eating Sloth,
Reuben Wilson,
Soft Cell,
Pulsallama,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.