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 Qatar and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Agent Orange 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator 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 güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Fluxion,
Dead Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ten City,
Rod Modell,
The Dead C,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deakin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Malaria!,
Wasted Youth,
Ice-T,
The Human League,
Black Pus,
Hot Snakes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stetsasonic,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
Archie Shepp,
Suburban Knight,
The Shadows of Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
Duran Duran,
Babytalk,
The Techniques,
The Walker Brothers,
Gong,
Crash Course in Science,
Little Man,
Sällskapet,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Mills,
The Stooges,
Arab on Radar,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fugazi,
Loose Ends,
The Beau Brummels,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dave Gahan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sound Behaviour,
The Wake,
Bush Tetras,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rekid,
Roxette,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Associates,
The Blues Magoos,
10cc,
Rapeman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.