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 Mongolia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Throbbing Gristle to the techno 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord 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 synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pagans,
Mars,
Aural Exciters,
One Last Wish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
X-102,
Joe Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronnie Foster,
Spandau Ballet,
Grey Daturas,
Sun Ra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Associates,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nils Olav,
Gerry Rafferty,
Severed Heads,
Bang On A Can,
Crooked Eye,
Negative Approach,
The Remains,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stetsasonic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ralphi Rosario,
The Martian,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Howard Jones,
cv313,
Isaac Hayes,
Tommy Roe,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DJ Style,
The Motions,
Jeff Mills,
The Neon Judgement,
Stiv Bators,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Kinks,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Cale,
Lakeside,
Big Daddy Kane,
Animal Collective,
ABC,
Accadde A,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brick,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alphaville,
Blossom Toes,
Quando Quango,
Moebius,
Visage,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.