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 Chad and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Television Personalities to the grime 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar 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 güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Joey Negro,
The Stooges,
AZ,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
The Human League,
the Soft Cell,
48th St. Collective,
Tears for Fears,
The Vogues,
The Fall,
Talk Talk,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kurtis Blow,
Tres Demented,
Lyres,
Faraquet,
Essential Logic,
World's Most,
Alison Limerick,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bad Manners,
Drexciya,
Harry Pussy,
Popol Vuh,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Technova,
Average White Band,
Royal Trux,
Carl Craig,
Y Pants,
Derrick May,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dual Sessions,
Soul II Soul,
Porter Ricks,
The Music Machine,
H. Thieme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cybotron,
Scion,
Hoover,
The Techniques,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soft Cell,
June Days,
Isaac Hayes,
One Last Wish,
Brick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eve St. Jones,
The Star Department,
Ronan,
The Motions,
The Remains,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.