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 Cameroon and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Zeros to the dance 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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a güiro 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
the Bar-Kays,
Susan Cadogan,
L. Decosne,
Simply Red,
Dead Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Junior Murvin,
Arthur Verocai,
Sex Pistols,
the Sonics,
Sonic Youth,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Move,
Amon Düül,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Man Parrish,
Unwound,
EPMD,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Five Americans,
Youth Brigade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Popol Vuh,
Godley & Creme,
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
X-Ray Spex,
Talk Talk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Niagra,
Anthony Braxton,
JFA,
Joy Division,
Joyce Sims,
Stetsasonic,
Echospace,
The Monochrome Set,
Ituana,
Reagan Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Eric Dolphy,
Tim Buckley,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Thee Headcoats,
the Normal,
Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
Scion,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marmalade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barry Ungar,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Starr,
Massinfluence,
Marc Almond,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.