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 Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Dual Sessions to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Juan Atkins,
Stetsasonic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Simply Red,
The Human League,
Schoolly D,
Darondo,
Ornette Coleman,
Suburban Knight,
Angry Samoans,
Faust,
Wire,
Rotary Connection,
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wally Richardson,
The Misunderstood,
Bang On A Can,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Christie,
Matthew Bourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aural Exciters,
Hoover,
Toni Rubio,
Magazine,
Skriet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mojo Men,
Grey Daturas,
Reuben Wilson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Young Marble Giants,
Barry Ungar,
Terry Callier,
cv313,
Deakin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Connie Case,
The Selecter,
Wings,
Pantytec,
Malaria!,
Alphaville,
Warren Ellis,
Whodini,
The Leaves,
David McCallum,
The Fugs,
Pole,
Kenny Larkin,
Theoretical Girls,
Quando Quango,
The Names,
The Black Dice,
Sparks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.