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 Netherlands and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Freddie Wadling 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Cell,
U.S. Maple,
The Music Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
The New Christs,
Talk Talk,
Massinfluence,
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
Yaz,
Prince Buster,
Icehouse,
Nirvana,
Joy Division,
Joyce Sims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unwound,
Anakelly,
Banda Bassotti,
Ten City,
Pagans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Theoretical Girls,
Pylon,
The Searchers,
Smog,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Althea and Donna,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marmalade,
Marvin Gaye,
Janne Schatter,
X-Ray Spex,
The Misunderstood,
Sarah Menescal,
Joe Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Depeche Mode,
The Moody Blues,
Tim Buckley,
The Count Five,
Gabor Szabo,
Eddi Front,
Roxy Music,
The Trojans,
Alison Limerick,
Freddie Wadling,
Deepchord,
Spandau Ballet,
Qualms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Patti Smith,
Brick,
kango's stein massive,
The Birthday Party,
Sex Pistols,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
The Grass Roots,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.