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 Fiji and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 New York Dolls to the punk 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb 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 synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Misunderstood,
The Evens,
Sister Nancy,
Mantronix,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skarface,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dual Sessions,
Dave Gahan,
DNA,
Sparks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monks,
Colin Newman,
Suicide,
Deakin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stiv Bators,
Cameo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Suburban Knight,
Radio Birdman,
Schoolly D,
Crime,
Blancmange,
Nirvana,
The Techniques,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ponytail,
Brass Construction,
Scrapy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Unwound,
Average White Band,
Flipper,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed,
Boredoms,
Echospace,
MC5,
Yaz,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quantec,
Lyres,
Supertramp,
Metal Thangz,
The Young Rascals,
Soul Sonic Force,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hot Snakes,
Das Ding,
Stetsasonic,
Minnie Riperton,
Lakeside,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.