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 East Timor and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Adolescents to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
CMW,
Young Marble Giants,
Echospace,
Television,
Al Stewart,
Public Enemy,
The Monks,
The Count Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Wyatt,
Agent Orange,
Black Flag,
Ten City,
Kas Product,
Glambeats Corp.,
Severed Heads,
Prince Buster,
The Standells,
The Moleskins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alice Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Leaves,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter and Kerry,
These Immortal Souls,
Barbara Tucker,
Bronski Beat,
Sex Pistols,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sandy B,
Brass Construction,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Evens,
The Blues Magoos,
Shoche,
Charles Mingus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ronnie Foster,
Suicide,
June of 44,
Organ,
Godley & Creme,
Gichy Dan,
Andrew Hill,
X-102,
Quantec,
New Age Steppers,
Donny Hathaway,
Rod Modell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Loose Ends,
Porter Ricks,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.