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 Zambia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Section 25 to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes 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 güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Main Source,
Johnny Clarke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dave Gahan,
Audionom,
Gil Scott Heron,
Funkadelic,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Skatalites,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rapeman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang On A Can,
Connie Case,
Panda Bear,
EPMD,
Cluster,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Cale,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Japan,
Gabor Szabo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Camouflage,
Radiohead,
Alison Limerick,
Livin' Joy,
The Pop Group,
Man Parrish,
Jacob Miller,
E-Dancer,
The Remains,
The Selecter,
The Trojans,
These Immortal Souls,
The Misunderstood,
The Dirtbombs,
Mark Hollis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Star Department,
Jandek,
The Five Americans,
Trumans Water,
Icehouse,
Wings,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Rufus Thomas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
F. McDonald,
The Count Five,
The Offenders,
Average White Band,
Aural Exciters,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.