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 Benin and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 U.S. Maple to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wake. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Johnny Clarke,
Cal Tjader,
Ultimate Spinach,
Boredoms,
Judy Mowatt,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Mills,
Reagan Youth,
Amon Düül,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
David McCallum,
The Stooges,
Hot Snakes,
Metal Thangz,
Suicide,
Bob Dylan,
Flipper,
Erasure,
The Angels of Light,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DJ Sneak,
PIL,
Slave,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Red Krayola,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quadrant,
Ken Boothe,
Ten City,
Slick Rick,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mo-Dettes,
New York Dolls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Guru Guru,
Dark Day,
Ornette Coleman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Supertramp,
Robert Wyatt,
Crispy Ambulance,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Steve Hackett,
Index,
The Gun Club,
The Slits,
Jandek,
The Standells,
Brass Construction,
The Monochrome Set,
Grauzone,
The Neon Judgement,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.