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 Burkina and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Second Layer to the rap 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Mantronix,
Accadde A,
10cc,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ken Boothe,
Black Flag,
Whodini,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Remains,
Inner City,
Model 500,
Easy Going,
Qualms,
Cluster,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lebanon Hanover,
Newcleus,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Index,
Roy Ayers,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Byrd,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crooked Eye,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sarah Menescal,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-101,
Rod Modell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Average White Band,
Negative Approach,
Wire,
Severed Heads,
R.M.O.,
U.S. Maple,
Maleditus Sound,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scott Walker,
Black Bananas,
The Blues Magoos,
Con Funk Shun,
The Toasters,
Junior Murvin,
Magma,
John Coltrane,
Nico,
Clear Light,
Susan Cadogan,
The Busters,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Clarke,
Cameo,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.