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 Swaziland and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the dance 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar 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 marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
The Cure,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
Television,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Television Personalities,
The Knickerbockers,
Public Enemy,
The Doors,
Wolf Eyes,
Pere Ubu,
The Pretty Things,
Terry Callier,
Yusef Lateef,
The Birthday Party,
Clear Light,
Hoover,
Cameo,
Lyres,
Lungfish,
Ituana,
Eric Copeland,
The Techniques,
Bob Dylan,
Scratch Acid,
Urselle,
Jerry's Kids,
Barry Ungar,
R.M.O.,
Neil Young,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slackers,
Danielle Patucci,
Heaven 17,
The Sound,
Leonard Cohen,
Flash Fearless,
Mr. Review,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bootsy Collins,
Derrick Morgan,
Ken Boothe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Busters,
The Seeds,
Grauzone,
Fluxion,
K-Klass,
The Smoke,
Zero Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marmalade,
The Dirtbombs,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Spoonie Gee,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.