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 Georgia and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Soft Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba 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 mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Surgeon,
Visage,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spoonie Gee,
The Black Dice,
DJ Sneak,
The Star Department,
Byron Stingily,
The Gun Club,
X-101,
Matthew Bourne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roger Hodgson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Maurizio,
Maleditus Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Roy Ayers,
Tears for Fears,
Schoolly D,
X-Ray Spex,
Sällskapet,
The Trojans,
Reagan Youth,
Depeche Mode,
U.S. Maple,
The Mummies,
Nas,
Don Cherry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yaz,
Khruangbin,
Mo-Dettes,
La Düsseldorf,
Y Pants,
Tomorrow,
Jawbox,
Essential Logic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Golliwogs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
PIL,
The Fall,
Kayak,
Severed Heads,
The Victims,
Make Up,
Mandrill,
The Selecter,
The Cramps,
Robert Görl,
Marc Almond,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Second Layer,
Dawn Penn,
Idris Muhammad,
E-Dancer,
Public Image Ltd.,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.