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 Tunisia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Throbbing Gristle to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Leonard Cohen,
Pantaleimon,
Brothers Johnson,
World's Most,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Youth Brigade,
The Move,
Parry Music,
Fat Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Motorama,
The Kinks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camouflage,
Peter and Kerry,
Eurythmics,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mission of Burma,
Prince Buster,
The Knickerbockers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reagan Youth,
Moebius,
Soul II Soul,
Ponytail,
The Count Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Technova,
Anakelly,
Judy Mowatt,
Inner City,
The Golliwogs,
X-Ray Spex,
L. Decosne,
The Pretty Things,
Half Japanese,
Marc Almond,
U.S. Maple,
Stiv Bators,
Monolake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Vogues,
Eden Ahbez,
Stockholm Monsters,
Little Man,
Black Moon,
Chris & Cosey,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joe Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amazonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mojo Men,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
The Fugs,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.