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 Grenada and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Boredoms,
Pere Ubu,
In Retrospect,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Near,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New Age Steppers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ornette Coleman,
Blake Baxter,
Arab on Radar,
Crooked Eye,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Reed,
The Misunderstood,
Laurel Aitken,
cv313,
Avey Tare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Starr,
Ronnie Foster,
Agitation Free,
Glenn Branca,
The Martian,
Minny Pops,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Sonics,
Severed Heads,
Monolake,
The Fall,
The Standells,
David Bowie,
Lucky Dragons,
Ken Boothe,
Gong,
The Victims,
Tears for Fears,
Eli Mardock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nirvana,
Gang of Four,
Danielle Patucci,
X-102,
Cybotron,
The Searchers,
Godley & Creme,
Dark Day,
Rites of Spring,
Sight & Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxette,
John Lydon,
Gichy Dan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deadbeat,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.