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 Liechtenstein and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Sonics to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe 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 synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Liliput,
Jacques Brel,
Pere Ubu,
PIL,
Bobby Byrd,
Prince Buster,
Anakelly,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Little Man,
The Invisible,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Sheep,
A Certain Ratio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Minor Threat,
Scrapy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ultra Naté,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hot Snakes,
Magma,
Boredoms,
The Last Poets,
New Order,
The Golliwogs,
The Moody Blues,
Throbbing Gristle,
Todd Terry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deepchord,
The Martian,
Fad Gadget,
Spandau Ballet,
ABBA,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lower 48,
Joyce Sims,
Nik Kershaw,
the Soft Cell,
Porter Ricks,
June of 44,
Smog,
X-Ray Spex,
Malaria!,
Man Parrish,
Brass Construction,
The Knickerbockers,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Leaves,
Grey Daturas,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Slits,
T. Rex,
The Wake,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rakim,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.