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 Belize and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Harpers Bizarre to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Dawn Penn,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Human League,
Groovy Waters,
Rites of Spring,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
Fat Boys,
A Certain Ratio,
The Associates,
Cal Tjader,
The Smiths,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Sneak,
Eddi Front,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scion,
Boz Scaggs,
Technova,
Liliput,
Sun Ra,
Pierre Henry,
Sight & Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
The Searchers,
Wally Richardson,
Chris & Cosey,
China Crisis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Babytalk,
Rapeman,
The Invisible,
Silicon Teens,
The Remains,
Pole,
Radio Birdman,
48th St. Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Parry Music,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barbara Tucker,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skaos,
Brick,
Ultra Naté,
The Saints,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare,
The Young Rascals,
Hoover,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scrapy,
Yellowson,
L. Decosne,
The Litter,
Arthur Verocai,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.