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 Libya and from London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Banda Bassotti to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Cybotron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fugazi,
Black Pus,
Johnny Clarke,
Josef K,
H. Thieme,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Theoretical Girls,
Can,
Byron Stingily,
John Cale,
Ludus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
OOIOO,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
CMW,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Standells,
48th St. Collective,
X-101,
Kayak,
Kurtis Blow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Offenders,
Rosa Yemen,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eurythmics,
Archie Shepp,
Gastr Del Sol,
Loose Ends,
Skaos,
Isaac Hayes,
UT,
DJ Sneak,
New Age Steppers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Blackbyrds,
The Trojans,
Blancmange,
The Busters,
Ultra Naté,
Pantaleimon,
Brothers Johnson,
Marine Girls,
Brass Construction,
Nick Fraelich,
Silicon Teens,
Dave Gahan,
Wings,
The J.B.'s,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scrapy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Terry Callier,
Alice Coltrane,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.