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 France and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marine Girls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Gories,
Tommy Roe,
Hasil Adkins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yaz,
Kas Product,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Qualms,
Sugar Minott,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Sherman,
This Heat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Connie Case,
Liliput,
Bush Tetras,
Gichy Dan,
Interpol,
Masters at Work,
The Blues Magoos,
Rekid,
Ultra Naté,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Womack,
Jawbox,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minny Pops,
Joe Finger,
Skriet,
Mo-Dettes,
A Certain Ratio,
Oneida,
Maurizio,
The Busters,
Joy Division,
Minnie Riperton,
The United States of America,
the Swans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pagans,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sound Behaviour,
KRS-One,
Cymande,
Jacques Brel,
Los Fastidios,
The Sound,
Swell Maps,
Josef K,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funkadelic,
Soft Cell,
David McCallum,
Gang of Four,
Heaven 17,
Nik Kershaw,
Ronnie Foster,
Erasure,
the Soft Cell,
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.