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 Syria and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 The Misunderstood to the disco 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Bourne,
Gang Green,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
T.S.O.L.,
Lalann,
Heaven 17,
Parry Music,
Roy Ayers,
H. Thieme,
the Bar-Kays,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Erasure,
Yazoo,
Bauhaus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Isaac Hayes,
Jacques Brel,
Young Marble Giants,
Tubeway Army,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Lydon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eric Copeland,
AZ,
The Music Machine,
Clear Light,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
Dark Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Star Department,
Wasted Youth,
Public Enemy,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
This Heat,
Bobby Sherman,
June Days,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quando Quango,
Television,
The Seeds,
Infiniti,
The Tremeloes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
China Crisis,
Tomorrow,
Magazine,
Laurel Aitken,
The Golliwogs,
Dawn Penn,
Stetsasonic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soulsonic Force,
The Selecter,
Sex Pistols,
Crime,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.