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 Cameroon and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Dirtbombs to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Echospace,
June of 44,
Pet Shop Boys,
Magazine,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Last Poets,
48th St. Collective,
The Black Dice,
Main Source,
The Fire Engines,
Sparks,
The Walker Brothers,
OOIOO,
Mo-Dettes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Metal Thangz,
Hoover,
Aaron Thompson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
Eli Mardock,
Dual Sessions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Litter,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
Ralphi Rosario,
This Heat,
Warren Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Mars,
Steve Hackett,
The Kinks,
Soft Cell,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Names,
Drexciya,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kool Moe Dee,
A Certain Ratio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barbara Tucker,
Young Marble Giants,
Agent Orange,
Maleditus Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jawbox,
The Skatalites,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Newcleus,
the Sonics,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Radio Birdman,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.