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 El Salvador and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soft Machine to the grunge 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
The Residents,
kango's stein massive,
Ornette Coleman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rosa Yemen,
The Mummies,
Mars,
X-101,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jandek,
Shoche,
The Velvet Underground,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dark Day,
Underground Resistance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
T.S.O.L.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Move,
Stereo Dub,
Slick Rick,
The Knickerbockers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alison Limerick,
Pole,
Dawn Penn,
Bronski Beat,
Roxette,
Los Fastidios,
The Remains,
Black Sheep,
Public Image Ltd.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Amazonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mark Hollis,
The Red Krayola,
Average White Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Unwound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Porter Ricks,
Rod Modell,
Qualms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minor Threat,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Blues Magoos,
Cameo,
Marc Almond,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
June Days,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Misunderstood,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dave Gahan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
10cc,
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.