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 Italy and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Sun Ra to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron 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 spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Rod Modell,
John Lydon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DNA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barry Ungar,
Fela Kuti,
Lower 48,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Joensuu 1685,
Agent Orange,
Kaleidoscope,
Youth Brigade,
The Toasters,
Deepchord,
One Last Wish,
Dead Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Intrusion,
The Pretty Things,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Hood,
Gang Green,
Blake Baxter,
Buzzcocks,
Susan Cadogan,
Absolute Body Control,
Arab on Radar,
Severed Heads,
Rhythm & Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Steve Hackett,
Mad Mike,
Fad Gadget,
Black Sheep,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman,
Roxy Music,
Section 25,
Black Moon,
Cheater Slicks,
B.T. Express,
Popol Vuh,
Graham Central Station,
Malaria!,
Rites of Spring,
Unrelated Segments,
Agitation Free,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Todd Rundgren,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Byrd,
Second Layer,
Amon Düül,
The Zeros,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.