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 Andorra and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 H. Thieme to the crunk 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord 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 organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Basic Channel,
The Moody Blues,
Scrapy,
Wings,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
kango's stein massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Joensuu 1685,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Trojans,
Sarah Menescal,
Lightning Bolt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Bananas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fad Gadget,
Tommy Roe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scientists,
Bad Manners,
The Associates,
a-ha,
Rufus Thomas,
Barrington Levy,
The Buckinghams,
Lower 48,
JFA,
Andrew Hill,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roger Hodgson,
Supertramp,
Chris Corsano,
Yusef Lateef,
Loose Ends,
Clear Light,
Pole,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cal Tjader,
A Certain Ratio,
Youth Brigade,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Misunderstood,
Radio Birdman,
The Star Department,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alice Coltrane,
Kayak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Maleditus Sound,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.