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 Tonga and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ornette Coleman to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric Dolphy,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brass Construction,
Malaria!,
R.M.O.,
Ronan,
Absolute Body Control,
Monolake,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Tremeloes,
Ponytail,
Bootsy Collins,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crispy Ambulance,
A Certain Ratio,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fugs,
The Smiths,
Nas,
Metal Thangz,
Agitation Free,
The Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Hoover,
The J.B.'s,
FM Einheit,
The Mojo Men,
Erykah Badu,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Franke,
The Vogues,
La Düsseldorf,
Piero Umiliani,
Sixth Finger,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eddi Front,
Nik Kershaw,
Ice-T,
Skarface,
Dark Day,
Unwound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Black Flag,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Section 25,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Carl Craig,
Todd Rundgren,
the Human League,
John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
F. McDonald,
The Blues Magoos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.