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 Somalia and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Roxette,
Cheater Slicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Andrew Hill,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Hood,
L. Decosne,
Marvin Gaye,
Jeru the Damaja,
E-Dancer,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ossler,
Rotary Connection,
Fear,
Aural Exciters,
Lalann,
Dennis Brown,
The Cosmic Jokers,
OOIOO,
the Fania All-Stars,
Max Romeo,
Camouflage,
The Seeds,
Blake Baxter,
the Human League,
Model 500,
Jacques Brel,
Reuben Wilson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tears for Fears,
Monolake,
Pagans,
The Last Poets,
Eddi Front,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Faust,
Animal Collective,
The Music Machine,
The Stooges,
Hashim,
The Grass Roots,
Howard Jones,
Judy Mowatt,
Janne Schatter,
Whodini,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
EPMD,
Bill Wells,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Byrd,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alphaville,
Panda Bear,
Swell Maps,
The Barracudas,
Pylon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.