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 New Zealand and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 EPMD to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dead C,
Scratch Acid,
Banda Bassotti,
Underground Resistance,
Accadde A,
Wasted Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultravox,
Derrick Morgan,
The Seeds,
Aloha Tigers,
Y Pants,
The Names,
Bill Near,
Bobby Sherman,
Aswad,
Jimmy McGriff,
EPMD,
Yazoo,
FM Einheit,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Albert Ayler,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Blues Magoos,
Al Stewart,
Vainqueur,
Liliput,
Gregory Isaacs,
Adolescents,
Thee Headcoats,
DNA,
Spoonie Gee,
Neu!,
Mark Hollis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Neil Young,
David Bowie,
Nirvana,
Metal Thangz,
L. Decosne,
Amon Düül,
Lou Christie,
The Happenings,
The Five Americans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joe Finger,
Lakeside,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nas,
Dead Boys,
Soulsonic Force,
The Martian,
Ice-T,
kango's stein massive,
Amazonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magma,
Second Layer,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.