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 Yemen and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator 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 arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Wings,
Cybotron,
Maleditus Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Mo-Dettes,
Robert Görl,
Connie Case,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hoover,
The Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Black Bananas,
Yazoo,
Liliput,
Visage,
Rites of Spring,
Sound Behaviour,
Drexciya,
K-Klass,
Accadde A,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Metal Thangz,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Wyatt,
Joe Smooth,
Magazine,
Technova,
Funkadelic,
The Toasters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dennis Brown,
Suburban Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Normal,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dawn Penn,
Das Ding,
Oneida,
Marvin Gaye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pagans,
The Fugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bang On A Can,
Jandek,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultravox,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yusef Lateef,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Con Funk Shun,
Drive Like Jehu,
Erasure,
Leonard Cohen,
The Moleskins,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.