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 New Zealand and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crispian St. Peters to the dance 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a spring reverb 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 güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blossom Toes,
Half Japanese,
Rosa Yemen,
Excepter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Smog,
Black Moon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yazoo,
The Divine Comedy,
The Techniques,
The Grass Roots,
Wally Richardson,
Rekid,
Dawn Penn,
Pylon,
Subhumans,
The Leaves,
Flipper,
Janne Schatter,
Gabor Szabo,
Patti Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
Cecil Taylor,
The Wake,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
DJ Style,
Nik Kershaw,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Hasil Adkins,
E-Dancer,
Johnny Clarke,
Ohio Players,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Sheep,
Magazine,
Franke,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Niagra,
PIL,
The New Christs,
Mandrill,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spoonie Gee,
ABC,
Suburban Knight,
The Golliwogs,
Organ,
Young Marble Giants,
June Days,
Tubeway Army,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell,
Marine Girls,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.