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 Samoa and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Accadde A to the dance 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a guitar 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 organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Q65,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Country Teasers,
10cc,
Smog,
Livin' Joy,
The Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Görl,
Au Pairs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Carl Craig,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronnie Foster,
Bob Dylan,
Vainqueur,
Marvin Gaye,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Terry Callier,
Todd Terry,
OOIOO,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quadrant,
Hardrive,
Banda Bassotti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Youth Brigade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Clarke,
Soulsonic Force,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eddi Front,
The Doors,
The Cramps,
Suburban Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Swans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Saccharine Trust,
Alphaville,
Mandrill,
The Slackers,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Selecter,
Bobby Womack,
The Star Department,
Connie Case,
Rakim,
Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Harpers Bizarre,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.