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 Bulgaria and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eric Dolphy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Move,
The Slackers,
Laurel Aitken,
This Heat,
Spandau Ballet,
The Names,
10cc,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Moon,
Nick Fraelich,
Masters at Work,
Black Bananas,
Rosa Yemen,
Mark Hollis,
Groovy Waters,
The Raincoats,
Soft Cell,
Derrick May,
MDC,
Zapp,
Leonard Cohen,
Grauzone,
the Human League,
Unrelated Segments,
Ralphi Rosario,
Massinfluence,
Wolf Eyes,
Faust,
Outsiders,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Near,
Eurythmics,
Mo-Dettes,
Brick,
Television Personalities,
JFA,
Gang Starr,
Jacob Miller,
The Barracudas,
Rapeman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
T. Rex,
Ronnie Foster,
Hardrive,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Angels of Light,
Stiv Bators,
Infiniti,
Joyce Sims,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Albert Ayler,
The Techniques,
Sister Nancy,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
U.S. Maple,
Whodini,
Monks,
Loose Ends,
John Holt,
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.