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 Colombia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sex Pistols to the electroclash 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ 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 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?
Aswad,
The Fuzztones,
The Electric Prunes,
X-102,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Pus,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Rundgren,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dawn Penn,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Delta 5,
Suburban Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Stockholm Monsters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arab on Radar,
Wasted Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Motions,
Dual Sessions,
Section 25,
Bush Tetras,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric Dolphy,
World's Most,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Underground Resistance,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ice-T,
Connie Case,
Laurel Aitken,
Maleditus Sound,
The American Breed,
Jeff Mills,
MC5,
Avey Tare,
The Moody Blues,
The Residents,
The Doors,
AZ,
Ten City,
Minor Threat,
Jacques Brel,
PIL,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Technova,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eddi Front,
Circle Jerks,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.