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 Sweden and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Warsaw to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Dual Sessions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
ABC,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Charles Mingus,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Zeros,
Roxy Music,
Parry Music,
Sun City Girls,
Oneida,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David McCallum,
KRS-One,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mandrill,
Shuggie Otis,
Wolf Eyes,
Connie Case,
B.T. Express,
Wings,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Magma,
The Smoke,
Popol Vuh,
Jerry's Kids,
The Victims,
John Cale,
Faraquet,
Wally Richardson,
Nik Kershaw,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bob Dylan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soft Cell,
Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy,
T. Rex,
Bill Wells,
Nils Olav,
The Barracudas,
The Skatalites,
Erasure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Flag,
These Immortal Souls,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Zapp,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter and Kerry,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Five Americans,
Ronnie Foster,
Eurythmics,
Sixth Finger,
Crash Course in Science,
Pole,
Amon Düül II,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.