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 Mongolia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marmalade to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pagans,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alphaville,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Scratch Acid,
The Martian,
Q65,
Althea and Donna,
T.S.O.L.,
Symarip,
Groovy Waters,
ABC,
Surgeon,
The American Breed,
Archie Shepp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül II,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Essential Logic,
The Zeros,
Niagra,
Crooked Eye,
Underground Resistance,
Maleditus Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monks,
Joey Negro,
The Angels of Light,
Q and Not U,
Fela Kuti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Yusef Lateef,
Rekid,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Clarke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pylon,
Nik Kershaw,
the Germs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stereo Dub,
Agitation Free,
The Monochrome Set,
Khruangbin,
the Soft Cell,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Litter,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rakim,
Fat Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Black Flag,
the Bar-Kays,
Mr. Review,
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.