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 Ukraine and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator 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 Barry Ungar to the crunk 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Alice Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Visage,
Joyce Sims,
John Holt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vladislav Delay,
AZ,
Tommy Roe,
The Vogues,
Quantec,
Don Cherry,
Alton Ellis,
The Busters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Radio Birdman,
Angry Samoans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric Copeland,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alphaville,
B.T. Express,
June of 44,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
Amon Düül II,
Pet Shop Boys,
Icehouse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims,
Donald Byrd,
Cymande,
Graham Central Station,
Crash Course in Science,
Supertramp,
cv313,
Traffic Nightmare,
Urselle,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
Eli Mardock,
Monolake,
The Five Americans,
the Soft Cell,
Youth Brigade,
The New Christs,
Japan,
Make Up,
Cecil Taylor,
T.S.O.L.,
Unwound,
The Motions,
Gastr Del Sol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
China Crisis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nils Olav,
Piero Umiliani,
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.