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 Seychelles and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gang Starr to the rap 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Quadrant,
Franke,
Suicide,
Erasure,
Smog,
The Star Department,
John Coltrane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Radio Birdman,
The Searchers,
Lindisfarne,
Janne Schatter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Piero Umiliani,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fall,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joensuu 1685,
Magazine,
Bang On A Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Ten City,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maurizio,
Juan Atkins,
Kayak,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monochrome Set,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Divine Comedy,
The Last Poets,
Tim Buckley,
Loose Ends,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
X-Ray Spex,
Mantronix,
Audionom,
Cymande,
Letta Mbulu,
Sugar Minott,
The Smiths,
Make Up,
Saccharine Trust,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harry Pussy,
The Fuzztones,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.