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 Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Steve Hackett to the rock 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord 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 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Remains,
ABBA,
KRS-One,
Erasure,
the Association,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Count Five,
Essential Logic,
Steve Hackett,
Brick,
Pierre Henry,
The Skatalites,
Marc Almond,
Minnie Riperton,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
Gang Starr,
David McCallum,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deepchord,
Mark Hollis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
DJ Sneak,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terry Callier,
John Cale,
The Fugs,
The Real Kids,
Underground Resistance,
Al Stewart,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Porter Ricks,
D'Angelo,
Bill Wells,
Fugazi,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scrapy,
Maurizio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crime,
CMW,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lightning Bolt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jandek,
Joe Finger,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Halsall,
Radiohead,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.