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 Pakistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Slave 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Kerri Chandler,
Warren Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
Radiohead,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fear,
Minor Threat,
Trumans Water,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Barracudas,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pet Shop Boys,
Qualms,
Derrick Morgan,
Quando Quango,
Amazonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stiv Bators,
Funkadelic,
ABC,
Stetsasonic,
Swans,
Jacques Brel,
Aural Exciters,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad,
The Smoke,
Ronnie Foster,
Sex Pistols,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Magazine,
The Knickerbockers,
Camouflage,
Bluetip,
the Association,
Brand Nubian,
Judy Mowatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Country Teasers,
Inner City,
Bob Dylan,
Accadde A,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cybotron,
The Saints,
Marvin Gaye,
Gil Scott Heron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wasted Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
ABBA,
Agent Orange,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Kinks,
Sister Nancy,
Ludus,
Alice Coltrane,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.