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 Barbados and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Birthday Party to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Pere Ubu,
Piero Umiliani,
Ponytail,
Derrick Morgan,
The Slackers,
The Busters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Idris Muhammad,
Porter Ricks,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Smoke,
Godley & Creme,
Mantronix,
Gong,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Green,
Bobby Byrd,
Marine Girls,
The Trojans,
Roger Hodgson,
the Sonics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Eric Copeland,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Donald Byrd,
Agent Orange,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
Minny Pops,
Nico,
Severed Heads,
Delta 5,
Television Personalities,
Alison Limerick,
Make Up,
Deakin,
The Birthday Party,
The Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Judy Mowatt,
L. Decosne,
Oblivians,
Skarface,
Fatback Band,
Eli Mardock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Al Stewart,
Buzzcocks,
Ituana,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Wyatt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Maleditus Sound,
Brass Construction,
Zapp,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
The Count Five,
Pylon,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.