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 Cape Verde and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe 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 Morten Harket 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare 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 snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Motions,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxy Music,
Pierre Henry,
Yusef Lateef,
Barry Ungar,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scrapy,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Gang Dance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pagans,
Deepchord,
DNA,
Pere Ubu,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ice-T,
Mantronix,
EPMD,
Lindisfarne,
Lyres,
Minutemen,
Lakeside,
The Last Poets,
Stereo Dub,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Michelle Simonal,
Eddi Front,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kerri Chandler,
Man Parrish,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
The Standells,
Alice Coltrane,
The Misunderstood,
Godley & Creme,
Swell Maps,
the Association,
Albert Ayler,
Massinfluence,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Shuggie Otis,
Little Man,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young,
Khruangbin,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
The Trojans,
Model 500,
The Stooges,
Jacques Brel,
E-Dancer,
Siglo XX,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Evens,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.