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 Uruguay and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Isaac Hayes to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator 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 a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Henry Cow,
Wings,
Zapp,
Minor Threat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moebius,
Bang On A Can,
The Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nirvana,
Mr. Review,
Mad Mike,
Michelle Simonal,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sonic Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
Lindisfarne,
Television Personalities,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Invisible,
Todd Rundgren,
Severed Heads,
The Toasters,
ABC,
Jacob Miller,
June of 44,
Oblivians,
Yellowson,
U.S. Maple,
Mary Jane Girls,
Negative Approach,
Faust,
Aaron Thompson,
MC5,
Throbbing Gristle,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
T. Rex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Desert Stars,
The Offenders,
The Five Americans,
Radio Birdman,
Marine Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Kenny Larkin,
Yaz,
the Soft Cell,
Mars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thompson Twins,
Blake Baxter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ten City,
B.T. Express,
The Fall,
Cluster,
The Walker Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.