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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wire to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum 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 spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Quantec,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Don Cherry,
the Sonics,
Alphaville,
Prince Buster,
Funky Four + One,
The Trojans,
The Blues Magoos,
Vladislav Delay,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Babytalk,
Ultra Naté,
Wally Richardson,
Traffic Nightmare,
One Last Wish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Buckinghams,
Loose Ends,
Boz Scaggs,
Donald Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
Silicon Teens,
Subhumans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marvin Gaye,
The Offenders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DNA,
Bill Wells,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sonny Sharrock,
10cc,
Fat Boys,
Hashim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacob Miller,
Average White Band,
This Heat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blossom Toes,
The Associates,
Nick Fraelich,
Soft Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Joe Smooth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eli Mardock,
Sister Nancy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Rufus Thomas,
Brick,
Moss Icon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arab on Radar,
The Busters,
Maleditus Sound,
Half Japanese,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.