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 Zambia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Loose Ends to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Leaves,
Rod Modell,
The Five Americans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Don Cherry,
The Martian,
X-Ray Spex,
Parry Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Durutti Column,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Johnny Clarke,
Altered Images,
MC5,
Alton Ellis,
Amon Düül,
Schoolly D,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arab on Radar,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harry Pussy,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fortunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronnie Foster,
Funky Four + One,
Sixth Finger,
The Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cowsills,
Swans,
Brick,
Boz Scaggs,
Skarface,
UT,
Saccharine Trust,
Camouflage,
The Associates,
Eric Copeland,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yusef Lateef,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul Sonic Force,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Jacques Brel,
The Saints,
Tubeway Army,
The Smoke,
Patti Smith,
The Residents,
U.S. Maple,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blossom Toes,
The New Christs,
X-101,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.