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 Luxembourg and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Brothers Johnson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tubeway Army,
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
Liliput,
Half Japanese,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Essential Logic,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Arab on Radar,
Johnny Osbourne,
Index,
Thompson Twins,
Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun City Girls,
X-102,
Godley & Creme,
Cal Tjader,
Harmonia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crooked Eye,
Joe Smooth,
The Count Five,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rapeman,
Byron Stingily,
Babytalk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Panda Bear,
The Trojans,
Electric Prunes,
Moby Grape,
The Knickerbockers,
The Happenings,
Technova,
The Gun Club,
Nas,
Eric Copeland,
Patti Smith,
David Axelrod,
David Bowie,
DNA,
CMW,
The Wake,
Skaos,
Alphaville,
Sex Pistols,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Slits,
Amon Düül II,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Todd Terry,
Stiv Bators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Groovy Waters,
Grauzone,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.