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 South Sudan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Trumans Water to the rap 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ 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 chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Intrusion,
Smog,
The Alarm Clocks,
Visage,
Scratch Acid,
Letta Mbulu,
The Remains,
Eli Mardock,
EPMD,
The Gun Club,
The Black Dice,
Angry Samoans,
The Saints,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aswad,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dual Sessions,
R.M.O.,
Porter Ricks,
Audionom,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hasil Adkins,
Eric Copeland,
Jeff Lynne,
Nils Olav,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Techniques,
The Dirtbombs,
Pierre Henry,
Procol Harum,
Camberwell Now,
Kerri Chandler,
Derrick Morgan,
Mr. Review,
The Modern Lovers,
John Holt,
Sällskapet,
ABBA,
Ten City,
Dead Boys,
The Sound,
Simply Red,
Nas,
Grauzone,
DNA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gladiators,
Buzzcocks,
DJ Sneak,
Stereo Dub,
LL Cool J,
Sam Rivers,
Quadrant,
The Seeds,
Public Image Ltd.,
Can,
The Selecter,
Aaron Thompson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.