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 Argentina and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Slick Rick to the crunk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Toasters,
Pagans,
The Kinks,
Banda Bassotti,
Donald Byrd,
The Alarm Clocks,
Simply Red,
Barrington Levy,
Marc Almond,
Arcadia,
The Beau Brummels,
Bauhaus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James White and The Blacks,
X-101,
Rekid,
Traffic Nightmare,
Steve Hackett,
Icehouse,
The Techniques,
Wally Richardson,
Mr. Review,
Suicide,
Joe Finger,
Subhumans,
Bobby Womack,
Carl Craig,
John Cale,
Public Image Ltd.,
Symarip,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Vogues,
Eli Mardock,
Saccharine Trust,
Magma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Letta Mbulu,
World's Most,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Human League,
Cecil Taylor,
Lindisfarne,
The Divine Comedy,
This Heat,
The Dead C,
Organ,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Moon,
Rod Modell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Howard Jones,
Pulsallama,
Loose Ends,
Zero Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Main Source,
Sound Behaviour,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wings,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.