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 Sri Lanka and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Smog to the grunge 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Nils Olav,
MDC,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alison Limerick,
The Smiths,
June Days,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yazoo,
Reuben Wilson,
Deadbeat,
The Pretty Things,
John Lydon,
Schoolly D,
Idris Muhammad,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scratch Acid,
Funkadelic,
The Fuzztones,
Cybotron,
The Cramps,
Magazine,
Bill Wells,
Sister Nancy,
Pierre Henry,
Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
Little Man,
Rotary Connection,
Charles Mingus,
Boredoms,
Mission of Burma,
Gabor Szabo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scott Walker,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick May,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barbara Tucker,
Shoche,
Young Marble Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Das Ding,
Soul Sonic Force,
Parry Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Au Pairs,
The Seeds,
This Heat,
Absolute Body Control,
David Axelrod,
The Electric Prunes,
The Angels of Light,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dual Sessions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mr. Review,
Arthur Verocai,
The Move,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ornette Coleman,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.