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 Maldives and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Echospace to the grime 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
DNA,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed,
David Bowie,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kurtis Blow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nik Kershaw,
Bronski Beat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cecil Taylor,
The Neon Judgement,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers,
Con Funk Shun,
The Real Kids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yellowson,
Bluetip,
Scratch Acid,
Angry Samoans,
Todd Rundgren,
New Order,
Cameo,
Derrick Morgan,
Maleditus Sound,
Rakim,
Erykah Badu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
D'Angelo,
The Remains,
Desert Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gap Band,
Depeche Mode,
Television Personalities,
Fad Gadget,
David McCallum,
The Barracudas,
Crime,
Symarip,
Joensuu 1685,
Visage,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Camberwell Now,
Black Moon,
Wings,
Man Parrish,
Dawn Penn,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mantronix,
Moebius,
OOIOO,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.