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 Brunei and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sexual Harrassment to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin 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 a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pretty Things,
Tomorrow,
Derrick Morgan,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül II,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Minnie Riperton,
Suicide,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moss Icon,
the Normal,
Minny Pops,
Jeru the Damaja,
EPMD,
Can,
Boredoms,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Womack,
Duran Duran,
Patti Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Hoover,
Archie Shepp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Drive Like Jehu,
Icehouse,
The Fire Engines,
Marine Girls,
Deadbeat,
Sam Rivers,
Reuben Wilson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
ABC,
Unwound,
Arab on Radar,
The Raincoats,
Niagra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sound Behaviour,
K-Klass,
Popol Vuh,
Yellowson,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Green,
Marc Almond,
Scott Walker,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fall,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Cameo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Golliwogs,
R.M.O.,
Sugar Minott,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.