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 Djibouti and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sarah Menescal to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes 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 oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
The Sound,
Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blossom Toes,
Rakim,
Eurythmics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Germs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Terry Callier,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boogie Down Productions,
The New Christs,
Marc Almond,
The Golliwogs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Skatalites,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Selecter,
Maurizio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The J.B.'s,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joe Smooth,
Pantytec,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Associates,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Clear Light,
The Young Rascals,
DJ Sneak,
Pharoah Sanders,
MDC,
Cecil Taylor,
The Count Five,
The Saints,
Country Teasers,
Yazoo,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Juan Atkins,
The Cramps,
U.S. Maple,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Steve Hackett,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Half Japanese,
Amon Düül,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
ABBA,
Skaos,
La Düsseldorf,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Womack,
Fat Boys,
Bill Near,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.