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 Burundi and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the funk 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Lalann,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Style,
AZ,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Görl,
JFA,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mandrill,
Thee Headcoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yellowson,
Liliput,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anakelly,
The J.B.'s,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Junior Murvin,
Sandy B,
Nick Fraelich,
The Velvet Underground,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Slits,
A Certain Ratio,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells,
Ituana,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Charles Mingus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Residents,
Pole,
Minnie Riperton,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Womack,
Pussy Galore,
Television,
Idris Muhammad,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
This Heat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barrington Levy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
T. Rex,
Reagan Youth,
Von Mondo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lucky Dragons,
Henry Cow,
Delta 5,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joy Division,
Lindisfarne,
Hasil Adkins,
Accadde A,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.