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 Palau and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 Motorama to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator 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 guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Aaron Thompson,
Ornette Coleman,
the Sonics,
Andrew Hill,
The Black Dice,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gong,
Parry Music,
Eve St. Jones,
Arthur Verocai,
Cheater Slicks,
James White and The Blacks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pussy Galore,
Susan Cadogan,
Flash Fearless,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deepchord,
Jandek,
Brand Nubian,
The Toasters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Tremeloes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed,
Loose Ends,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terry Callier,
Mars,
Peter and Kerry,
the Association,
The Slits,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Clarke,
Tom Boy,
Rites of Spring,
Lungfish,
R.M.O.,
Organ,
New York Dolls,
Scott Walker,
Boogie Down Productions,
Skriet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grandmaster Flash,
Popol Vuh,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fat Boys,
ABC,
Donald Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Gichy Dan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Interpol,
The Slackers,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.