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 Turkmenistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the funk 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord 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 linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Knickerbockers,
Reagan Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Matthew Halsall,
The Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Eli Mardock,
Bob Dylan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fire Engines,
The Golliwogs,
Skarface,
Rites of Spring,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Adolescents,
Patti Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
48th St. Collective,
MDC,
The Gap Band,
In Retrospect,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
F. McDonald,
Nas,
Agitation Free,
Bill Near,
Eddi Front,
Pagans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barry Ungar,
Pylon,
Lower 48,
Arcadia,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Christie,
Dennis Brown,
Tim Buckley,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed,
Ronan,
Soulsonic Force,
Ossler,
Crooked Eye,
The Blues Magoos,
The Angels of Light,
Man Eating Sloth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
PIL,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Stiv Bators,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flipper,
AZ,
Lalann,
a-ha,
Alice Coltrane,
Inner City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arthur Verocai,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.