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 South Sudan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Reagan Youth to the grunge 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
The Blackbyrds,
Nation of Ulysses,
FM Einheit,
the Association,
Loose Ends,
Neil Young,
Masters at Work,
Colin Newman,
Ituana,
Sällskapet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Steve Hackett,
Black Moon,
Jawbox,
Rakim,
Pussy Galore,
Boredoms,
Wire,
Harry Pussy,
Barrington Levy,
Skriet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Roxette,
Smog,
Todd Terry,
Donald Byrd,
The Velvet Underground,
Brothers Johnson,
Jerry's Kids,
Jandek,
Motorama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mars,
Cal Tjader,
H. Thieme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Misunderstood,
The Moody Blues,
Black Flag,
These Immortal Souls,
Cybotron,
Bang On A Can,
Buzzcocks,
Pantaleimon,
Josef K,
Arcadia,
Public Enemy,
Ronnie Foster,
Wally Richardson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marshall Jefferson,
Zero Boys,
Newcleus,
Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
Boz Scaggs,
Index,
Scratch Acid,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Modern Lovers,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.