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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Johnny Osbourne to the crunk 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Easy Going,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scratch Acid,
The Gladiators,
Royal Trux,
T.S.O.L.,
The Birthday Party,
Pantaleimon,
The Sonics,
The Motions,
The American Breed,
Blake Baxter,
L. Decosne,
Aswad,
the Soft Cell,
Sugar Minott,
H. Thieme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
David Bowie,
Deakin,
Swans,
Panda Bear,
The Monochrome Set,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Parry Music,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Buckinghams,
Electric Prunes,
the Germs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sound Behaviour,
Al Stewart,
Heaven 17,
Rosa Yemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
PIL,
Public Image Ltd.,
La Düsseldorf,
Flipper,
The Detroit Cobras,
LL Cool J,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Desert Stars,
Section 25,
Dark Day,
The Residents,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Soul II Soul,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television,
Jawbox,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Wyatt,
Interpol,
Smog,
T. Rex,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.