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 Chad and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Terry Callier to the jazz 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Tears for Fears,
The Modern Lovers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camouflage,
The Doobie Brothers,
Robert Wyatt,
Funky Four + One,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ludus,
Essential Logic,
Unrelated Segments,
Nation of Ulysses,
Franke,
H. Thieme,
Black Sheep,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Womack,
Mark Hollis,
The Monks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Monks,
X-102,
Ronan,
Gang Gang Dance,
T. Rex,
Infiniti,
the Association,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hoover,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
Radio Birdman,
Tom Boy,
JFA,
Black Pus,
Howard Jones,
The Offenders,
Smog,
The Vogues,
Symarip,
La Düsseldorf,
Delta 5,
AZ,
David Bowie,
Livin' Joy,
Royal Trux,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kas Product,
Eddi Front,
Eurythmics,
Peter and Kerry,
Dawn Penn,
The Cure,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Faraquet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fad Gadget,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.