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 Yemen and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
the Sonics,
Deepchord,
Intrusion,
Q and Not U,
The Gap Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Severed Heads,
New Order,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Depeche Mode,
a-ha,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Magazine,
The United States of America,
Gabor Szabo,
PIL,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Newcleus,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Toasters,
Siglo XX,
AZ,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Angels of Light,
The Barracudas,
Vladislav Delay,
The Associates,
The Golliwogs,
David McCallum,
Stiv Bators,
Ituana,
Ronan,
Ultra Naté,
ABC,
Technova,
Schoolly D,
Kenny Larkin,
LL Cool J,
Zero Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
Kayak,
Agitation Free,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Khruangbin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Matthew Halsall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yusef Lateef,
Don Cherry,
Blake Baxter,
The Offenders,
The Gun Club,
The Grass Roots,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slackers,
Crispy Ambulance,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.