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 Congo and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience to the jazz 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a rhodes 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Letta Mbulu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Human League,
The Dead C,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Suburban Knight,
Boredoms,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers,
Black Bananas,
Rites of Spring,
The Gap Band,
The Misunderstood,
The Fire Engines,
Barbara Tucker,
Y Pants,
John Cale,
Moss Icon,
Electric Prunes,
Ultra Naté,
Accadde A,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
MC5,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Charles Mingus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Depeche Mode,
Sight & Sound,
Inner City,
Johnny Clarke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hardrive,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
K-Klass,
10cc,
CMW,
Buzzcocks,
Lindisfarne,
Deepchord,
Sound Behaviour,
Banda Bassotti,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cure,
F. McDonald,
The Move,
Fat Boys,
Radiohead,
Henry Cow,
Scan 7,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fall,
Suicide,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.