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 Iran and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Matthew Bourne to the funk 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Black Moon,
Letta Mbulu,
Grey Daturas,
Metal Thangz,
Dawn Penn,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flipper,
Chris & Cosey,
The Seeds,
Dave Gahan,
Boz Scaggs,
Rufus Thomas,
Quando Quango,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dark Day,
Al Stewart,
The Remains,
Jandek,
Ken Boothe,
Underground Resistance,
OOIOO,
Deadbeat,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
The Index,
John Holt,
Morten Harket,
Derrick Morgan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mojo Men,
Wolf Eyes,
Lalann,
Technova,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
The Residents,
Donald Byrd,
Sun City Girls,
Country Teasers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sonics,
Yellowson,
The Cramps,
The Slits,
The Durutti Column,
Amon Düül,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cybotron,
These Immortal Souls,
Arab on Radar,
Clear Light,
Heaven 17,
Bluetip,
The Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
Can,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.