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 Venezuela and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The New Christs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Interpol,
The Blackbyrds,
Hot Snakes,
Shoche,
Joy Division,
MDC,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q65,
Niagra,
Slick Rick,
Schoolly D,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Howard Jones,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sound Behaviour,
The Black Dice,
Gichy Dan,
Gang of Four,
Cameo,
A Certain Ratio,
Avey Tare,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
Swans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Heaven 17,
Rosa Yemen,
Monks,
Chris & Cosey,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eurythmics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sandy B,
Suburban Knight,
Babytalk,
Pagans,
Los Fastidios,
ABC,
Japan,
The Smiths,
Nick Fraelich,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ice-T,
Marvin Gaye,
Cheater Slicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gun Club,
Oneida,
Blake Baxter,
Moss Icon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Glenn Branca,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barbara Tucker,
Kayak,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.