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 Qatar and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Warsaw to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba 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 harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Cameo,
the Human League,
Skriet,
the Bar-Kays,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABC,
Byron Stingily,
The Black Dice,
The Seeds,
The Gun Club,
Nils Olav,
Kurtis Blow,
Gichy Dan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Clarke,
X-Ray Spex,
Adolescents,
Max Romeo,
Pantytec,
Fatback Band,
Ituana,
The Names,
Lyres,
Inner City,
Nico,
Surgeon,
Eric Dolphy,
Stiv Bators,
Steve Hackett,
Mark Hollis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bronski Beat,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
a-ha,
Kerri Chandler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Charles Mingus,
Minor Threat,
Audionom,
Gong,
Carl Craig,
Rod Modell,
Pulsallama,
Radiohead,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sixth Finger,
Absolute Body Control,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Offenders,
The Sonics,
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
Second Layer,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roger Hodgson,
The Pop Group,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.