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 Tuvalu and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
The Neon Judgement,
Magazine,
Cluster,
Lalann,
Alton Ellis,
Terry Callier,
Lightning Bolt,
Bush Tetras,
Saccharine Trust,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Essential Logic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Massinfluence,
Wasted Youth,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roxy Music,
Danielle Patucci,
Hot Snakes,
The Cure,
La Düsseldorf,
Charles Mingus,
Rotary Connection,
Iggy Pop,
Eli Mardock,
Can,
The Golliwogs,
The Mummies,
The Litter,
Robert Wyatt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
MDC,
The Smiths,
Rakim,
Television,
Ken Boothe,
Pussy Galore,
In Retrospect,
Sparks,
The Beau Brummels,
Hashim,
Masters at Work,
The Skatalites,
Arab on Radar,
New Order,
Wire,
Siglo XX,
The Knickerbockers,
Delta 5,
Goldenarms,
The Associates,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Slackers,
The Dirtbombs,
Clear Light,
Procol Harum,
Monolake,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.