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 Senegal and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Mummies to the grunge 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro 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 guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Cheater Slicks,
MC5,
Tom Boy,
June of 44,
Ronan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nirvana,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mummies,
Freddie Wadling,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Doors,
Brick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Buckinghams,
Rod Modell,
Tres Demented,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joyce Sims,
Roxy Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terry Callier,
Man Parrish,
Oneida,
The Residents,
Ornette Coleman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Organ,
Alton Ellis,
L. Decosne,
X-102,
The Tremeloes,
Gichy Dan,
Idris Muhammad,
Harry Pussy,
The Star Department,
Q and Not U,
Buzzcocks,
The Index,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blues Magoos,
Leonard Cohen,
Scrapy,
Radio Birdman,
Eurythmics,
Todd Terry,
Prince Buster,
Circle Jerks,
Robert Görl,
New Order,
Popol Vuh,
T. Rex,
Henry Cow,
Blancmange,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.