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 Cambodia and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Neon Judgement to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Mars,
The Count Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Alphaville,
World's Most,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joe Smooth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Echospace,
The Fortunes,
The Cure,
The Real Kids,
Jacob Miller,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sonic Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minny Pops,
Marshall Jefferson,
Duran Duran,
The Zeros,
Don Cherry,
Robert Hood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Clear Light,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tres Demented,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Beau Brummels,
Television Personalities,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David Bowie,
Babytalk,
La Düsseldorf,
Barclay James Harvest,
Davy DMX,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultra Naté,
The Durutti Column,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Star Department,
The Young Rascals,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare,
Gang Gang Dance,
Henry Cow,
Khruangbin,
Chrome,
Wire,
Pierre Henry,
Make Up,
the Bar-Kays,
Funkadelic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Piero Umiliani,
The Pretty Things,
Sun Ra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.