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 Vietnam and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 T.S.O.L. to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 an organ and a guitar 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 snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Depeche Mode,
Sonic Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-101,
Kurtis Blow,
Make Up,
cv313,
Hot Snakes,
Patti Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
E-Dancer,
Pussy Galore,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Electric Prunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
T.S.O.L.,
Icehouse,
Dark Day,
Camberwell Now,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Smoke,
The Real Kids,
Roxette,
Massinfluence,
Henry Cow,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
Judy Mowatt,
Desert Stars,
the Association,
The Modern Lovers,
Second Layer,
Derrick May,
Crash Course in Science,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Clear Light,
Aloha Tigers,
Simply Red,
Moss Icon,
Can,
Sun City Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roger Hodgson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
China Crisis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harmonia,
Ultra Naté,
The Evens,
Buzzcocks,
Niagra,
The Smiths,
The Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mark Hollis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.