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 Mongolia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord 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 Outsiders to the dance 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator 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 clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Bootsy Collins,
The New Christs,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Green,
Anakelly,
Index,
The Smoke,
Magazine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Darondo,
Radio Birdman,
The Techniques,
Laurel Aitken,
Roy Ayers,
Panda Bear,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Godley & Creme,
David McCallum,
Schoolly D,
Skarface,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
D'Angelo,
Arthur Verocai,
Funky Four + One,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boredoms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ponytail,
Easy Going,
Mars,
Bang On A Can,
Eurythmics,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kevin Saunderson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Star Department,
Lightning Bolt,
Popol Vuh,
The J.B.'s,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
48th St. Collective,
Mo-Dettes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soul Sonic Force,
Babytalk,
X-Ray Spex,
Deadbeat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Second Layer,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Charles Mingus,
Pussy Galore,
World's Most,
Flash Fearless,
Pole,
Bobby Byrd,
The Slits,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.