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 Azerbaijan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 guitar 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 punk 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a güiro 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Bar-Kays,
Deadbeat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Curtis Mayfield,
Depeche Mode,
A Certain Ratio,
Erykah Badu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Little Man,
Bush Tetras,
Juan Atkins,
Warsaw,
Nas,
Ohio Players,
Jawbox,
Stiv Bators,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Byron Stingily,
Skriet,
Magazine,
Wasted Youth,
Bauhaus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Simply Red,
Half Japanese,
Theoretical Girls,
FM Einheit,
Donny Hathaway,
The Knickerbockers,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
Suburban Knight,
Gerry Rafferty,
David McCallum,
Sam Rivers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smiths,
Toni Rubio,
Scratch Acid,
Hot Snakes,
the Association,
Subhumans,
Black Bananas,
Mantronix,
Massinfluence,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cramps,
The Moody Blues,
The Evens,
Joey Negro,
Banda Bassotti,
Lyres,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Technova,
These Immortal Souls,
Cymande,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.