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 Liechtenstein and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Chris & Cosey to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Eddi Front,
Pylon,
Goldenarms,
Country Teasers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Bill Near,
Lalo Schifrin,
Angry Samoans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Babytalk,
Second Layer,
Ponytail,
Rod Modell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Music Machine,
The Raincoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tom Boy,
The Cowsills,
John Coltrane,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Fraelich,
a-ha,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jacob Miller,
K-Klass,
Minny Pops,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gabor Szabo,
Massinfluence,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Real Kids,
Rakim,
Crime,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Drexciya,
Altered Images,
The Gap Band,
Harry Pussy,
David Bowie,
The Buckinghams,
Slick Rick,
Kenny Larkin,
Schoolly D,
Derrick Morgan,
Grey Daturas,
Erasure,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fluxion,
Theoretical Girls,
Rufus Thomas,
Ronnie Foster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
The Martian,
Lakeside,
Wings,
Sugar Minott,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.