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 Benin and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Alison Limerick,
B.T. Express,
Brass Construction,
T. Rex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yusef Lateef,
Electric Prunes,
The Vogues,
the Normal,
Suicide,
Sonny Sharrock,
Infiniti,
Siglo XX,
Newcleus,
Kas Product,
Au Pairs,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Bar-Kays,
Grauzone,
New York Dolls,
Brothers Johnson,
Leonard Cohen,
Nick Fraelich,
Monks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Soft Cell,
Magazine,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
Black Moon,
Spoonie Gee,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Peter & Gordon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pussy Galore,
David Bowie,
Yellowson,
John Lydon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kevin Saunderson,
Swell Maps,
Robert Görl,
The Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Skriet,
F. McDonald,
Hasil Adkins,
Symarip,
Deepchord,
Simply Red,
Technova,
Chrome,
James White and The Blacks,
Bluetip,
Sister Nancy,
The Angels of Light,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.