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 Tanzania and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Minnie Riperton to the grime 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer 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 arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Electric Prunes,
X-102,
Graham Central Station,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Velvet Underground,
Lyres,
Aswad,
Blancmange,
Surgeon,
Bush Tetras,
The Neon Judgement,
Nation of Ulysses,
Zero Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Pulsallama,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantytec,
The Angels of Light,
Throbbing Gristle,
One Last Wish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Au Pairs,
Yaz,
The Cowsills,
Kas Product,
The Standells,
Amon Düül II,
Index,
Jerry's Kids,
Ken Boothe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Average White Band,
The Martian,
The Sound,
Joey Negro,
Black Pus,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cramps,
The Residents,
Make Up,
Excepter,
Malaria!,
Charles Mingus,
The New Christs,
Marmalade,
The Golliwogs,
Johnny Clarke,
Buzzcocks,
Second Layer,
John Holt,
Absolute Body Control,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Peter and Kerry,
Cymande,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aural Exciters,
Yusef Lateef,
Cluster,
Angry Samoans,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.