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 Canada and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Whodini to the dance 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Spoonie Gee,
Idris Muhammad,
Godley & Creme,
Gichy Dan,
Funkadelic,
The Pretty Things,
Ponytail,
Black Bananas,
Wire,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Faraquet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Wyatt,
Amon Düül,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultra Naté,
Fela Kuti,
Lalann,
Eddi Front,
Pantytec,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Parry Music,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tomorrow,
48th St. Collective,
Pole,
Nation of Ulysses,
Popol Vuh,
Public Enemy,
Judy Mowatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Simply Red,
Brothers Johnson,
Wings,
Radiopuhelimet,
Darondo,
Mantronix,
Skarface,
Liliput,
Cecil Taylor,
The Star Department,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Swans,
The Tremeloes,
Tears for Fears,
Television,
the Sonics,
Lower 48,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gories,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Newcleus,
Janne Schatter,
Alice Coltrane,
Patti Smith,
Deadbeat,
The J.B.'s,
Neu!,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gun Club,
Lungfish,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.