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 Togo and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Soul Sonic Force to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 mellotron and a güiro 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 organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
The Fall,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ken Boothe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
James White and The Blacks,
Alton Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Infiniti,
Traffic Nightmare,
Funkadelic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Excepter,
Index,
Boredoms,
Kaleidoscope,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Q65,
Shoche,
Rapeman,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jandek,
Heaven 17,
Fugazi,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wally Richardson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Yellowson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Darondo,
The Victims,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible,
Grauzone,
Khruangbin,
Sarah Menescal,
Barbara Tucker,
Young Marble Giants,
Liliput,
Public Image Ltd.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Selecter,
Vladislav Delay,
Crash Course in Science,
Arab on Radar,
Sandy B,
Davy DMX,
Ponytail,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Laurel Aitken,
Ituana,
Theoretical Girls,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.