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 Congo and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the punk 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yazoo,
Camberwell Now,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
DJ Sneak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fugs,
Sonic Youth,
Toni Rubio,
Eric Copeland,
The Dirtbombs,
Bad Manners,
Pierre Henry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
PIL,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joy Division,
The Divine Comedy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Clarke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Sherman,
John Coltrane,
Gong,
Scientists,
The Modern Lovers,
Matthew Bourne,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Moon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Green,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Foxx,
Robert Görl,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scrapy,
Gang Starr,
Joe Smooth,
the Germs,
Rotary Connection,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Adolescents,
Archie Shepp,
Leonard Cohen,
The Slackers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T. Rex,
Crooked Eye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mr. Review,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
Aaron Thompson,
Alphaville,
Lucky Dragons,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.