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 Rwanda and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cabaret Voltaire 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Shuggie Otis,
the Bar-Kays,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Alphaville,
Ken Boothe,
The Doors,
Blossom Toes,
Jawbox,
Blake Baxter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tommy Roe,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Hood,
Kas Product,
Patti Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Radiopuhelimet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Prince Buster,
Ultravox,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
Yazoo,
Smog,
PIL,
Cameo,
Kerri Chandler,
Stiv Bators,
Carl Craig,
Faust,
Soul II Soul,
Gang of Four,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roxy Music,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hashim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flipper,
Theoretical Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
Technova,
Cymande,
Loose Ends,
AZ,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ludus,
Eurythmics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
K-Klass,
The Happenings,
Vladislav Delay,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minor Threat,
Unrelated Segments,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.