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 Sri Lanka and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Letta Mbulu to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet 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 theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Goldenarms,
Qualms,
The Martian,
The Red Krayola,
Gabor Szabo,
Ituana,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sister Nancy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Charles Mingus,
Sun Ra,
The Golliwogs,
Yazoo,
Junior Murvin,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
Mars,
Franke,
Brass Construction,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New York Dolls,
Jerry's Kids,
The J.B.'s,
Don Cherry,
Excepter,
Warren Ellis,
The Barracudas,
EPMD,
The Raincoats,
Pagans,
The Music Machine,
The New Christs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roxette,
Negative Approach,
Barbara Tucker,
Pulsallama,
Black Flag,
Lindisfarne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Trumans Water,
Marc Almond,
Michelle Simonal,
Mo-Dettes,
Howard Jones,
The Fuzztones,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Count Five,
B.T. Express,
Crooked Eye,
Deepchord,
Lightning Bolt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Colin Newman,
Mad Mike,
Unwound,
Amon Düül,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.