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 Turkey and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Freddie Wadling 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Quantec,
Ken Boothe,
Stetsasonic,
The Young Rascals,
Kerrie Biddell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Accadde A,
T. Rex,
ABC,
Whodini,
Crispy Ambulance,
48th St. Collective,
Nick Fraelich,
Adolescents,
K-Klass,
Zero Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Heaven 17,
Bill Near,
Nico,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Graham Central Station,
The Fire Engines,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brand Nubian,
China Crisis,
The Vogues,
Soul II Soul,
Intrusion,
The Blackbyrds,
Colin Newman,
Pierre Henry,
The Human League,
Howard Jones,
The Walker Brothers,
The Saints,
The Fortunes,
Soft Machine,
The Techniques,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fugazi,
Al Stewart,
Max Romeo,
The Monks,
Hot Snakes,
The Victims,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Normal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lungfish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Angels of Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Beau Brummels,
Index,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Subhumans,
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.