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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Lindisfarne 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator 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 sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Jawbox,
Erykah Badu,
Minutemen,
The Blackbyrds,
John Foxx,
Audionom,
Amazonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Second Layer,
Black Sheep,
Carl Craig,
Traffic Nightmare,
Japan,
The Neon Judgement,
Gastr Del Sol,
David Bowie,
The Saints,
The Cure,
The Offenders,
L. Decosne,
The Angels of Light,
Mandrill,
Arthur Verocai,
Television Personalities,
Soft Cell,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Axelrod,
8 Eyed Spy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Human League,
T.S.O.L.,
Bronski Beat,
Scan 7,
Bill Wells,
The Black Dice,
The Vogues,
D'Angelo,
Deepchord,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pagans,
The Dead C,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Yellowson,
Bobby Womack,
Alison Limerick,
Darondo,
Black Pus,
Swell Maps,
Leonard Cohen,
The Selecter,
the Normal,
Peter and Kerry,
Tres Demented,
Chris Corsano,
Mantronix,
Byron Stingily,
Urselle,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Clarke,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.