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 Kenya and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Icehouse to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Absolute Body Control,
R.M.O.,
Black Pus,
X-101,
Faust,
John Cale,
Eric Copeland,
Cymande,
Organ,
Funky Four + One,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
The Vogues,
Sarah Menescal,
Babytalk,
Bronski Beat,
Dual Sessions,
Brothers Johnson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gabor Szabo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Motorama,
Monolake,
Black Bananas,
Eden Ahbez,
John Coltrane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mojo Men,
Byron Stingily,
Symarip,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sight & Sound,
Nas,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Count Five,
The Cowsills,
Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
The Remains,
kango's stein massive,
Nirvana,
Echospace,
X-Ray Spex,
Depeche Mode,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.