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 Papua New Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Television to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a linndrum 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 mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Infiniti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Drive Like Jehu,
Au Pairs,
Derrick May,
The Invisible,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Warren Ellis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Pus,
the Bar-Kays,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lakeside,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bronski Beat,
Blancmange,
Aswad,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stetsasonic,
Byron Stingily,
Howard Jones,
Albert Ayler,
K-Klass,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bill Wells,
Charles Mingus,
The Buckinghams,
Tommy Roe,
E-Dancer,
June of 44,
The Smoke,
Ten City,
Eddi Front,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Certain Ratio,
Kenny Larkin,
Scan 7,
Lightning Bolt,
Neu!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wings,
Niagra,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Womack,
Excepter,
The Motions,
Bluetip,
Absolute Body Control,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Mummies,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Livin' Joy,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.