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 Dominica and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer 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 mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Roxette,
Roger Hodgson,
Panda Bear,
Ronan,
Eve St. Jones,
In Retrospect,
Pole,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bob Dylan,
Schoolly D,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Juan Atkins,
The Knickerbockers,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Remains,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Amon Düül II,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wasted Youth,
David Axelrod,
Oneida,
Thompson Twins,
Q and Not U,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pulsallama,
Tommy Roe,
Sex Pistols,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young,
Piero Umiliani,
The Associates,
Donald Byrd,
Deadbeat,
Crime,
Prince Buster,
Heaven 17,
The Slackers,
Kool Moe Dee,
CMW,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Steve Hackett,
Blancmange,
The Golliwogs,
The Trojans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grauzone,
Bobby Sherman,
The Skatalites,
Black Flag,
Los Fastidios,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Parry Music,
Letta Mbulu,
Marvin Gaye,
Japan,
The Happenings,
Alton Ellis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.