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 Ireland and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the techno 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Ludus,
The Slackers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Colin Newman,
Kurtis Blow,
Althea and Donna,
the Bar-Kays,
Stiv Bators,
Brothers Johnson,
Aural Exciters,
The Fuzztones,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
Scratch Acid,
Moebius,
Electric Prunes,
48th St. Collective,
Eddi Front,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Essential Logic,
Hoover,
Agitation Free,
Y Pants,
Don Cherry,
Von Mondo,
Fatback Band,
Groovy Waters,
Audionom,
Skarface,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blancmange,
Sarah Menescal,
Yaz,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eric Copeland,
Dual Sessions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Shoche,
Fear,
Masters at Work,
Joey Negro,
MC5,
The Smiths,
Rekid,
Cluster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Surgeon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cheater Slicks,
The Cowsills,
David Bowie,
Pierre Henry,
The Angels of Light,
Jacques Brel,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.