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 Venezuela and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 the Slits to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott Heron,
Morten Harket,
Traffic Nightmare,
This Heat,
The Zeros,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Supertramp,
Heaven 17,
Aloha Tigers,
Cal Tjader,
Bronski Beat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tres Demented,
Mantronix,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Siglo XX,
Lower 48,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scratch Acid,
Joy Division,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Malaria!,
Loose Ends,
Lakeside,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Moby Grape,
The J.B.'s,
ABC,
June Days,
Blossom Toes,
Quadrant,
Buzzcocks,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pagans,
Scion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cluster,
Minny Pops,
Boz Scaggs,
The Names,
Black Flag,
Bobby Sherman,
Reuben Wilson,
David Axelrod,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Black Dice,
Sällskapet,
kango's stein massive,
cv313,
Black Sheep,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lyres,
Excepter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Funky Four + One,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.