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 Lithuania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stetsasonic to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Iggy Pop,
Fugazi,
The Fall,
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
Sonny Sharrock,
Slave,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thompson Twins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jeff Lynne,
The Names,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Blackbyrds,
Severed Heads,
Funkadelic,
Vladislav Delay,
The Offenders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rapeman,
Joey Negro,
Matthew Halsall,
the Slits,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
a-ha,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Human League,
Public Enemy,
Neu!,
Rotary Connection,
Tropical Tobacco,
Erasure,
L. Decosne,
Black Pus,
Ituana,
Rakim,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers,
Eli Mardock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
Agent Orange,
Flash Fearless,
Duran Duran,
Blancmange,
The Shadows of Knight,
Circle Jerks,
Intrusion,
Lalann,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Visage,
Jeff Mills,
Country Teasers,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantytec,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.