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 Malta and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Fortunes to the jazz 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a synthesizer 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 clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deadbeat,
Harry Pussy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Amon Düül,
Mo-Dettes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Popol Vuh,
Lalann,
Alison Limerick,
Goldenarms,
The Kinks,
Circle Jerks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magazine,
Icehouse,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cramps,
Grey Daturas,
Steve Hackett,
Porter Ricks,
Radiohead,
MC5,
Gang Green,
Basic Channel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Audionom,
A Certain Ratio,
Letta Mbulu,
Minnie Riperton,
Blossom Toes,
Archie Shepp,
D'Angelo,
Cameo,
Bronski Beat,
The Gladiators,
Dark Day,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
Girls At Our Best!,
Adolescents,
Lakeside,
Scrapy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Doobie Brothers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monochrome Set,
Thompson Twins,
China Crisis,
Sex Pistols,
Kaleidoscope,
Fad Gadget,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare,
The Young Rascals,
Mr. Review,
David Bowie,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.