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 Slovenia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Electric Prunes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba 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 harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Yaz,
Khruangbin,
Yellowson,
Hardrive,
Yusef Lateef,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Letta Mbulu,
Warren Ellis,
Bronski Beat,
Second Layer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Neon Judgement,
Blancmange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Accadde A,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scion,
The Red Krayola,
Harpers Bizarre,
Faust,
Technova,
MDC,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter and Kerry,
H. Thieme,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The United States of America,
Alton Ellis,
Pulsallama,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Glenn Branca,
Dual Sessions,
The Slits,
The Saints,
Ken Boothe,
Rapeman,
Joe Finger,
ABC,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Move,
Hashim,
Desert Stars,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Qualms,
Reuben Wilson,
Eddi Front,
Byron Stingily,
Black Moon,
OOIOO,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Porter Ricks,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.