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 New Zealand and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 Cymande 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Bush Tetras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bill Wells,
the Swans,
X-Ray Spex,
Lower 48,
Yellowson,
The Pop Group,
Goldenarms,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Bourne,
Steve Hackett,
Skriet,
Whodini,
The Monochrome Set,
Boredoms,
The Fortunes,
The Pretty Things,
The Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ornette Coleman,
Maleditus Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Rod Modell,
Jacob Miller,
Erasure,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ponytail,
Section 25,
Unwound,
The Smoke,
Urselle,
Second Layer,
Juan Atkins,
Bronski Beat,
Anthony Braxton,
Ken Boothe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
a-ha,
The Grass Roots,
Bang On A Can,
Porter Ricks,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Sonics,
The Mummies,
Mission of Burma,
The Techniques,
Ultravox,
Harmonia,
Nik Kershaw,
Al Stewart,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
F. McDonald,
Nation of Ulysses,
Khruangbin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Moon,
Sun City Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.