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 Kenya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the grunge 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sexual Harrassment,
June of 44,
Nik Kershaw,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Depeche Mode,
Warsaw,
Siglo XX,
Icehouse,
John Lydon,
The New Christs,
PIL,
L. Decosne,
Ossler,
Camberwell Now,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker,
Half Japanese,
Rapeman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Alphaville,
Joyce Sims,
Slave,
Erykah Badu,
Babytalk,
World's Most,
John Cale,
Bronski Beat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Neu!,
Susan Cadogan,
Drexciya,
Howard Jones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sällskapet,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mojo Men,
Joey Negro,
The Monochrome Set,
Freddie Wadling,
Boredoms,
Iggy Pop,
Livin' Joy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Christie,
Graham Central Station,
The Buckinghams,
Theoretical Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brick,
Q and Not U,
The Selecter,
Arcadia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Swans,
The Techniques,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.