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 Tuvalu and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Monochrome Set to the grunge 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord 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 organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pulsallama,
Ponytail,
Tears for Fears,
Warsaw,
The Blackbyrds,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Normal,
Arthur Verocai,
Camouflage,
John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
World's Most,
Sparks,
Tubeway Army,
Mission of Burma,
The Stooges,
Scratch Acid,
Grauzone,
Public Image Ltd.,
D'Angelo,
Surgeon,
Hoover,
the Bar-Kays,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hasil Adkins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Duran Duran,
DNA,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Freddie Wadling,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeff Lynne,
The Modern Lovers,
Colin Newman,
Motorama,
Drexciya,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultra Naté,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
La Düsseldorf,
Marine Girls,
The Five Americans,
Little Man,
The Gap Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Byrd,
Quadrant,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Mills,
Cal Tjader,
Visage,
Pierre Henry,
Shuggie Otis,
Camberwell Now,
Laurel Aitken,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.