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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 David Bowie 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 Clear Light to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Interpol,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Hood,
Black Bananas,
Marine Girls,
David Bowie,
Minnie Riperton,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Excepter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Inner City,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Drexciya,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Easy Going,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ronnie Foster,
Funkadelic,
The Motions,
Bootsy Collins,
Idris Muhammad,
Isaac Hayes,
Brass Construction,
Accadde A,
Arcadia,
10cc,
Infiniti,
Oblivians,
The Mummies,
New York Dolls,
Babytalk,
Khruangbin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bauhaus,
T. Rex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neil Young,
Stiv Bators,
Pere Ubu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minor Threat,
Nico,
Joe Smooth,
Faust,
Charles Mingus,
Aural Exciters,
Hoover,
UT,
Pantaleimon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Chris & Cosey,
Carl Craig,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeff Mills,
The Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Oneida,
The Names,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.