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 Philippines and from Manchester.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 LL Cool J to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Scrapy,
John Holt,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Monochrome Set,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
Nils Olav,
Arcadia,
Mr. Review,
Boz Scaggs,
Lyres,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bad Manners,
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
Kevin Saunderson,
Erasure,
Niagra,
Gang Starr,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Royal Trux,
Adolescents,
Mandrill,
Sun City Girls,
Man Parrish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
CMW,
The Victims,
David McCallum,
Angry Samoans,
Marine Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Sparks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Gun Club,
Susan Cadogan,
Mantronix,
T.S.O.L.,
The Mummies,
Glenn Branca,
Skriet,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Wyatt,
Surgeon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Association,
Crooked Eye,
Tom Boy,
Connie Case,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
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.