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 Gambia and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Harry Pussy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Half Japanese,
the Swans,
Matthew Halsall,
Babytalk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
China Crisis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tears for Fears,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Cale,
The Divine Comedy,
Morten Harket,
Basic Channel,
Marine Girls,
FM Einheit,
Rapeman,
Soul II Soul,
R.M.O.,
Idris Muhammad,
Max Romeo,
The Red Krayola,
Freddie Wadling,
Goldenarms,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moleskins,
Tubeway Army,
Country Teasers,
Ornette Coleman,
Arcadia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Delta 5,
Sam Rivers,
Michelle Simonal,
John Holt,
The Music Machine,
The Trojans,
Ultravox,
The Gladiators,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Sherman,
F. McDonald,
John Foxx,
Bill Wells,
JFA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
EPMD,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Neil Young,
Robert Wyatt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brick,
Bang On A Can,
Quando Quango,
Shuggie Otis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quantec,
Jawbox,
Hasil Adkins,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.