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 Sri Lanka and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pierre Henry to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Gang Green,
David Axelrod,
Electric Prunes,
Arcadia,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joey Negro,
Bauhaus,
Moebius,
Archie Shepp,
Andrew Hill,
Ice-T,
Mars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grey Daturas,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Negative Approach,
Judy Mowatt,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Christie,
Faust,
Lucky Dragons,
Juan Atkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barrington Levy,
Los Fastidios,
The Real Kids,
Marc Almond,
E-Dancer,
Spoonie Gee,
Franke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
UT,
Lebanon Hanover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
PIL,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harmonia,
Tom Boy,
Fela Kuti,
Cheater Slicks,
Ludus,
Amon Düül II,
Von Mondo,
Roger Hodgson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Main Source,
Animal Collective,
Eurythmics,
Warsaw,
Wally Richardson,
Pagans,
Sister Nancy,
Agitation Free,
Bang On A Can,
Big Daddy Kane,
Erykah Badu,
Bill Wells,
Buzzcocks,
Japan,
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.