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 Greece and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Oppenheimer Analysis 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 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 organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Chris Corsano,
Blossom Toes,
The Index,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Clarke,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ludus,
Roxy Music,
Porter Ricks,
CMW,
Cybotron,
Connie Case,
The J.B.'s,
Stereo Dub,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lalann,
Animal Collective,
B.T. Express,
Tommy Roe,
In Retrospect,
Minor Threat,
The Slits,
Scion,
Harmonia,
Scrapy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Maleditus Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Fluxion,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bluetip,
Youth Brigade,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Skatalites,
Gong,
Ossler,
Kenny Larkin,
The Human League,
Aloha Tigers,
Isaac Hayes,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fat Boys,
Crime,
The Move,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barclay James Harvest,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Circle Jerks,
Pagans,
John Lydon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.