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 Ukraine and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sarah Menescal to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Erasure,
ABC,
Susan Cadogan,
Amon Düül II,
Connie Case,
Sixth Finger,
Delta 5,
The Fortunes,
Ohio Players,
Radio Birdman,
The Mummies,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pierre Henry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Robert Görl,
Los Fastidios,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Grass Roots,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moody Blues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bluetip,
Roy Ayers,
Howard Jones,
Pussy Galore,
kango's stein massive,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Wyatt,
Danielle Patucci,
Harry Pussy,
Kerri Chandler,
Wasted Youth,
Tom Boy,
the Association,
Chris & Cosey,
Brothers Johnson,
Loose Ends,
Byron Stingily,
Pharoah Sanders,
Animal Collective,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Organ,
The Star Department,
The Associates,
Wire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Guru Guru,
Eric Copeland,
Soul II Soul,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nik Kershaw,
Joey Negro,
Freddie Wadling,
Gabor Szabo,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.