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 Mexico and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 New York Dolls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and a theremin 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 linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Suburban Knight,
Urselle,
Crime,
Pagans,
The Happenings,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Excepter,
Maurizio,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cramps,
Eric Dolphy,
Mandrill,
The Pop Group,
The United States of America,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joe Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Youth Brigade,
Black Moon,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Smoke,
Roxette,
Henry Cow,
Section 25,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Slits,
Minor Threat,
The Martian,
Moebius,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Selecter,
Jeff Lynne,
Fela Kuti,
Wire,
Arthur Verocai,
Cymande,
Patti Smith,
Black Flag,
The Dead C,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tears for Fears,
Jawbox,
Scientists,
PIL,
The Associates,
DJ Style,
Radiopuhelimet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stetsasonic,
Alison Limerick,
Technova,
Joyce Sims,
The Zeros,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blancmange,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.