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 Mali and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gong to the electroclash 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar 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 a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Rekid,
This Heat,
Hasil Adkins,
Amon Düül,
Intrusion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Connie Case,
Japan,
Howard Jones,
Shuggie Otis,
Kayak,
Wally Richardson,
KRS-One,
Kaleidoscope,
Zapp,
the Bar-Kays,
Magazine,
Camberwell Now,
The J.B.'s,
Echospace,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
Goldenarms,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxy Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sixth Finger,
The Misunderstood,
Colin Newman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ice-T,
Interpol,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lower 48,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronan,
Bobby Womack,
Urselle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yusef Lateef,
Vainqueur,
Parry Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Pantaleimon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Simply Red,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masters at Work,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Terry Callier,
Barry Ungar,
The Doors,
Wire,
Dark Day,
Moss Icon,
The Cowsills,
Scott Walker,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.