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 Korea North and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deadbeat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron 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 oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Happenings,
The Leaves,
Swans,
Flipper,
Marc Almond,
Panda Bear,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sonics,
Glenn Branca,
New York Dolls,
Aural Exciters,
Ultra Naté,
Sonic Youth,
Bauhaus,
Nirvana,
Aswad,
X-101,
Accadde A,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Icehouse,
The Index,
Make Up,
The Music Machine,
Neil Young,
Masters at Work,
The Monks,
Half Japanese,
Ten City,
Godley & Creme,
The Young Rascals,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mojo Men,
Electric Prunes,
Guru Guru,
Bill Near,
Terry Callier,
Lou Reed,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric Copeland,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rekid,
One Last Wish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
Surgeon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eli Mardock,
B.T. Express,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Sherman,
The Smiths,
The Names,
Grey Daturas,
Altered Images,
The Residents,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.