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 Mozambique and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Second Layer to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
the Swans,
Qualms,
Laurel Aitken,
Parry Music,
Soulsonic Force,
Duran Duran,
Soul Sonic Force,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eli Mardock,
Fad Gadget,
Delta 5,
Arab on Radar,
Marc Almond,
Section 25,
Tim Buckley,
Lungfish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crime,
Peter and Kerry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Harry Pussy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Albert Ayler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Sheep,
Sugar Minott,
The Angels of Light,
Desert Stars,
Nils Olav,
The Skatalites,
Carl Craig,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers,
Lindisfarne,
Amazonics,
In Retrospect,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pere Ubu,
Barry Ungar,
Inner City,
The Cowsills,
Jesper Dahlback,
Schoolly D,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scion,
Altered Images,
EPMD,
Wire,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Warren Ellis,
Crash Course in Science,
John Lydon,
Yazoo,
Symarip,
Grandmaster Flash,
Adolescents,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.