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 South Africa and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Theoretical Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar 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 spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arab on Radar,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Agitation Free,
Cecil Taylor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boredoms,
Oneida,
Surgeon,
Eve St. Jones,
Stiv Bators,
T. Rex,
The Dead C,
Frankie Knuckles,
Stereo Dub,
Suburban Knight,
Dawn Penn,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bang On A Can,
The Cramps,
The Smiths,
Fela Kuti,
Janne Schatter,
Crooked Eye,
the Sonics,
Chris Corsano,
Rod Modell,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Associates,
Sparks,
Second Layer,
Bobby Sherman,
The Skatalites,
X-102,
Talk Talk,
the Soft Cell,
Scientists,
Banda Bassotti,
The Velvet Underground,
Barbara Tucker,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fear,
Marvin Gaye,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
DJ Style,
Connie Case,
The Tremeloes,
Donald Byrd,
Siglo XX,
Patti Smith,
Nirvana,
Jacques Brel,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spandau Ballet,
Mandrill,
The Zeros,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.