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 Papua New Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ohio Players to the jazz 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes 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 snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Bluetip,
Donald Byrd,
Blancmange,
Suburban Knight,
The Dead C,
Black Moon,
Deepchord,
The Zeros,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Finger,
Shoche,
Anthony Braxton,
Excepter,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Knickerbockers,
Swans,
The Cowsills,
Joensuu 1685,
The Monochrome Set,
The Doors,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gregory Isaacs,
Max Romeo,
Blossom Toes,
Yaz,
Cymande,
Eli Mardock,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tears for Fears,
Siglo XX,
Pantytec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Juan Atkins,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
Roger Hodgson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sugar Minott,
Rotary Connection,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Minutemen,
Guru Guru,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Count Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Desert Stars,
Urselle,
Soul II Soul,
Chris Corsano,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rekid,
Bill Near,
MC5,
Michelle Simonal,
James White and The Blacks,
Television,
Kas Product,
48th St. Collective,
Das Ding,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.