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 Bahrain and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Panda Bear to the punk 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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Monks,
Byron Stingily,
Inner City,
Pagans,
Suicide,
Joensuu 1685,
The Misunderstood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Searchers,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Slits,
Dark Day,
Jacques Brel,
Tommy Roe,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
H. Thieme,
Sound Behaviour,
Flipper,
David McCallum,
Man Parrish,
Bad Manners,
The Human League,
Moby Grape,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mummies,
Arab on Radar,
These Immortal Souls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radiohead,
Brass Construction,
Judy Mowatt,
Hashim,
Lou Christie,
Subhumans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Selecter,
Eve St. Jones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Swell Maps,
World's Most,
Terrestrial Tones,
Country Teasers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cramps,
David Axelrod,
Bill Wells,
Skriet,
Lucky Dragons,
Clear Light,
The Litter,
Aaron Thompson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marmalade,
The Durutti Column,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pierre Henry,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.