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 Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Maurizio to the dance 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a 808 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joy Division,
The Real Kids,
The Monks,
Can,
Sun Ra,
Wally Richardson,
Yellowson,
The Electric Prunes,
The Star Department,
Infiniti,
Ponytail,
Unrelated Segments,
Dave Gahan,
Supertramp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deakin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wolf Eyes,
Harry Pussy,
John Foxx,
Erykah Badu,
Aaron Thompson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joyce Sims,
The Fire Engines,
Scratch Acid,
Lyres,
Minny Pops,
Royal Trux,
Camberwell Now,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wasted Youth,
MC5,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jerry's Kids,
Spandau Ballet,
The Victims,
kango's stein massive,
Kerrie Biddell,
Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sonny Sharrock,
Vainqueur,
Y Pants,
Ultimate Spinach,
The American Breed,
ABBA,
Sandy B,
AZ,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tommy Roe,
Crime,
Organ,
Lou Christie,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.