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 Delhi.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rod Modell to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a marimba and an arpeggiator 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 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Patti Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
New York Dolls,
B.T. Express,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Slick Rick,
Q65,
The Zeros,
Ronan,
Kayak,
Organ,
Icehouse,
Mandrill,
Jerry's Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flipper,
Groovy Waters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cheater Slicks,
Scan 7,
Suburban Knight,
Albert Ayler,
Sight & Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fad Gadget,
The Mojo Men,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aural Exciters,
Grey Daturas,
Ultravox,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Magazine,
The Index,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Erasure,
Mantronix,
10cc,
Talk Talk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Funkadelic,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jacques Brel,
The Toasters,
The Gun Club,
MC5,
The Music Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Urselle,
Bizarre Inc.,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Sherman,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.