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 Marshall Islands and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Visage to the funk 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and an arpeggiator 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 synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ludus,
Kurtis Blow,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moebius,
Hashim,
Urselle,
Man Eating Sloth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Martian,
Lower 48,
The Litter,
X-Ray Spex,
Ituana,
the Association,
Dual Sessions,
Lungfish,
The Wake,
Pylon,
Flamin' Groovies,
E-Dancer,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Girls At Our Best!,
New Age Steppers,
Althea and Donna,
Junior Murvin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Saccharine Trust,
Sällskapet,
Drexciya,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lalann,
The Blackbyrds,
The Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cheater Slicks,
Severed Heads,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Byron Stingily,
Matthew Bourne,
The Doors,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lightning Bolt,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cluster,
The Pretty Things,
Slave,
Jeff Mills,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Supertramp,
Leonard Cohen,
Audionom,
John Lydon,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.