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 Mozambique and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the techno 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a 808 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
John Foxx,
Wings,
Robert Görl,
Camouflage,
Thee Headcoats,
Nick Fraelich,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fall,
Ponytail,
The Mummies,
Patti Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Average White Band,
FM Einheit,
EPMD,
Todd Rundgren,
Janne Schatter,
Wolf Eyes,
Moss Icon,
Kurtis Blow,
Barrington Levy,
The Barracudas,
Tubeway Army,
Black Flag,
Erykah Badu,
The Star Department,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
Bootsy Collins,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
Alice Coltrane,
The Real Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
John Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
Lyres,
Dual Sessions,
China Crisis,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Young Rascals,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
Alton Ellis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Popol Vuh,
Sound Behaviour,
Drexciya,
Skriet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marc Almond,
Swell Maps,
Little Man,
Althea and Donna,
Rufus Thomas,
Q and Not U,
Kas Product,
Warren Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.