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 Algeria and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Average White Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a chamberlin 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 mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
a-ha,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama,
Hot Snakes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pierre Henry,
The Pretty Things,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quando Quango,
Eric Dolphy,
Blake Baxter,
Stetsasonic,
Nas,
Anakelly,
The J.B.'s,
Pulsallama,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jandek,
Matthew Bourne,
Sparks,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Moon,
John Coltrane,
Smog,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Associates,
Cymande,
Amon Düül,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
DJ Style,
Mars,
Delta 5,
Eurythmics,
Model 500,
Ohio Players,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Altered Images,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Audionom,
The Motions,
Television,
Talk Talk,
Flipper,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Zeros,
Deepchord,
Crash Course in Science,
Rod Modell,
The Modern Lovers,
Bill Wells,
Kerri Chandler,
Scratch Acid,
Thee Headcoats,
Archie Shepp,
Connie Case,
K-Klass,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.