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 Angola and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the rap 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
The Durutti Column,
ABBA,
Parry Music,
John Foxx,
Jerry's Kids,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish,
The Techniques,
Cal Tjader,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Schoolly D,
Japan,
Faust,
Newcleus,
Motorama,
Glambeats Corp.,
Excepter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Freddie Wadling,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dead Boys,
The Smiths,
Warsaw,
Lower 48,
The Remains,
The Sonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Qualms,
Pierre Henry,
Popol Vuh,
Scientists,
the Soft Cell,
The Zeros,
Make Up,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare,
X-101,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Motions,
Harmonia,
John Holt,
This Heat,
Young Marble Giants,
Arab on Radar,
Letta Mbulu,
the Germs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Black Dice,
Cymande,
Isaac Hayes,
The Mojo Men,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Skriet,
Second Layer,
Tres Demented,
Nick Fraelich,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.