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 Paraguay and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
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 Captain Beefheart 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 Scrapy to the disco 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Massinfluence,
The Leaves,
Iggy Pop,
Shuggie Otis,
Duran Duran,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Doors,
Marcia Griffiths,
Section 25,
Reuben Wilson,
Funky Four + One,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Selecter,
Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
Robert Hood,
Television Personalities,
Zero Boys,
Alison Limerick,
The Smoke,
Black Pus,
Lindisfarne,
Derrick May,
Fat Boys,
Scrapy,
Cluster,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Görl,
Supertramp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Invisible,
The Stooges,
Curtis Mayfield,
Japan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scratch Acid,
Basic Channel,
X-Ray Spex,
Main Source,
Byron Stingily,
the Bar-Kays,
Kerri Chandler,
The Divine Comedy,
Vainqueur,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bauhaus,
Aural Exciters,
Von Mondo,
Echospace,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scan 7,
Q65,
Wasted Youth,
The Durutti Column,
the Soft Cell,
Franke,
Hasil Adkins,
Erasure,
DNA,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.