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 New Zealand and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Dirtbombs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer 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 chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tomorrow,
Bad Manners,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Howard Jones,
Whodini,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Leaves,
Con Funk Shun,
Accadde A,
Rites of Spring,
A Certain Ratio,
Surgeon,
Brothers Johnson,
Shuggie Otis,
Essential Logic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Negative Approach,
Duran Duran,
the Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
Parry Music,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
Bill Near,
The Blackbyrds,
ABC,
Gang Green,
World's Most,
Delta 5,
Mr. Review,
Panda Bear,
Barrington Levy,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mars,
Procol Harum,
Arcadia,
Siglo XX,
Y Pants,
The Slits,
Cluster,
Supertramp,
Urselle,
The Busters,
The Index,
the Soft Cell,
Janne Schatter,
Moss Icon,
New York Dolls,
Qualms,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soft Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Rakim,
Dawn Penn,
Quando Quango,
Marine Girls,
Gong,
The Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.