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 Afghanistan and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Lou Reed 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 Curtis Mayfield to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Archie Shepp,
Minor Threat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deakin,
Cal Tjader,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marshall Jefferson,
Organ,
Scott Walker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kool Moe Dee,
Deadbeat,
Procol Harum,
Rufus Thomas,
Au Pairs,
Grauzone,
Clear Light,
Yusef Lateef,
Zero Boys,
Joe Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Five Americans,
Susan Cadogan,
The Durutti Column,
Janne Schatter,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gories,
Don Cherry,
Todd Rundgren,
EPMD,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ice-T,
Matthew Bourne,
Metal Thangz,
Slave,
Lou Christie,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Görl,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cowsills,
Ultra Naté,
The Walker Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
The Real Kids,
Fugazi,
The Slackers,
Hashim,
Isaac Hayes,
AZ,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mojo Men,
The Fall,
H. Thieme,
Soulsonic Force,
Alton Ellis,
The Searchers,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.