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 Uruguay and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a harpsichord and a rhodes 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 spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Moby Grape,
Lower 48,
the Bar-Kays,
Gong,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pagans,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Youth Brigade,
Thompson Twins,
Flash Fearless,
Byron Stingily,
Bizarre Inc.,
Donald Byrd,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Circle Jerks,
ABC,
Gang Starr,
Brass Construction,
Saccharine Trust,
Mandrill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radiohead,
Swans,
The Names,
Robert Hood,
Robert Görl,
The Blues Magoos,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Angry Samoans,
Swell Maps,
Gichy Dan,
The Motions,
Malaria!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joyce Sims,
The Moody Blues,
Sarah Menescal,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Chris Corsano,
Laurel Aitken,
Von Mondo,
EPMD,
Bill Near,
PIL,
Pantaleimon,
Pierre Henry,
Dave Gahan,
Urselle,
Babytalk,
Deakin,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
Ultravox,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
K-Klass,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.