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 Estonia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Robert Görl to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Magma,
Ultravox,
AZ,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lungfish,
Pulsallama,
Morten Harket,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ultra Naté,
Hot Snakes,
Glenn Branca,
Visage,
The Happenings,
Tom Boy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Almond,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rekid,
The Shadows of Knight,
T. Rex,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Monochrome Set,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dirtbombs,
Technova,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Q65,
Minutemen,
Toni Rubio,
Bob Dylan,
The Martian,
This Heat,
In Retrospect,
Darondo,
Japan,
Minor Threat,
Surgeon,
The Standells,
The Detroit Cobras,
E-Dancer,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Young Rascals,
Black Moon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythm & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
New York Dolls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Derrick Morgan,
Zero Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Parry Music,
Vladislav Delay,
Swans,
Interpol,
Robert Wyatt,
The Real Kids,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Royal Trux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.