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 Somalia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Donald Byrd to the rap 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a mellotron 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 organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
the Human League,
Japan,
Supertramp,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Names,
Patti Smith,
Cal Tjader,
Dead Boys,
Negative Approach,
The Dirtbombs,
Bob Dylan,
Heaven 17,
Robert Wyatt,
Lungfish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pantaleimon,
Grauzone,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare,
Donny Hathaway,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warsaw,
Liliput,
Royal Trux,
The Motions,
Warren Ellis,
Brass Construction,
cv313,
Popol Vuh,
Pole,
Skaos,
Funky Four + One,
Lucky Dragons,
Visage,
Smog,
Scratch Acid,
Spandau Ballet,
the Germs,
E-Dancer,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Doors,
Procol Harum,
Drexciya,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gichy Dan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Smoke,
Ohio Players,
Alphaville,
Half Japanese,
Das Ding,
Shoche,
Panda Bear,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mark Hollis,
The Fuzztones,
Grey Daturas,
kango's stein massive,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.