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 Mauritania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the punk 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a harpsichord 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Lalann,
Quando Quango,
Electric Prunes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Deakin,
K-Klass,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ice-T,
John Cale,
Angry Samoans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Janne Schatter,
Rites of Spring,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Offenders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Interpol,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blake Baxter,
Alice Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bluetip,
The Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
New Age Steppers,
Ultravox,
The Cure,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül II,
Liliput,
Excepter,
Masters at Work,
The Techniques,
Delta 5,
T.S.O.L.,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Y Pants,
Archie Shepp,
Wasted Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Clarke,
Section 25,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kurtis Blow,
Roger Hodgson,
Ken Boothe,
The Names,
Mantronix,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
UT,
Hot Snakes,
Reagan Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Letta Mbulu,
The Kinks,
World's Most,
Marc Almond,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.