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 Moldova and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Graham Central Station to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum 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 snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Eve St. Jones,
the Normal,
Skaos,
Joe Smooth,
Underground Resistance,
Black Bananas,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Motions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amon Düül,
Flipper,
June of 44,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Steve Hackett,
Von Mondo,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eddi Front,
Albert Ayler,
Andrew Hill,
Sparks,
EPMD,
The Wake,
Audionom,
Slick Rick,
Soft Cell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Freddie Wadling,
Derrick May,
The Fall,
John Coltrane,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suicide,
Y Pants,
John Lydon,
John Holt,
Mission of Burma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Junior Murvin,
Deakin,
Cheater Slicks,
Shoche,
Altered Images,
Kas Product,
The Birthday Party,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roxy Music,
Rakim,
Ultravox,
Charles Mingus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DJ Style,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sugar Minott,
Lightning Bolt,
Fela Kuti,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.