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 South Sudan and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Scott Walker to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Quantec,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Blues Magoos,
Pere Ubu,
Rosa Yemen,
Howard Jones,
The Victims,
Man Eating Sloth,
Graham Central Station,
Morten Harket,
Laurel Aitken,
Sandy B,
The Dirtbombs,
The Martian,
Monks,
Black Sheep,
Black Moon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mr. Review,
The Zeros,
The Last Poets,
This Heat,
Boredoms,
Oblivians,
Kas Product,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Near,
The Monks,
Unwound,
Pantytec,
Nick Fraelich,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fuzztones,
The Golliwogs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Severed Heads,
DJ Sneak,
Hoover,
Grey Daturas,
Girls At Our Best!,
EPMD,
Gang of Four,
Reuben Wilson,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
Peter and Kerry,
New York Dolls,
The Grass Roots,
Faust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liliput,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Germs,
Chrome,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.