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 Nauru and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Grass Roots to the grime 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a spring reverb 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Procol Harum,
The Pop Group,
The Fugs,
X-Ray Spex,
Lower 48,
Audionom,
Flash Fearless,
China Crisis,
T.S.O.L.,
Shuggie Otis,
Nico,
Bootsy Collins,
cv313,
Cybotron,
Marc Almond,
Archie Shepp,
Suburban Knight,
Sparks,
Rapeman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Doobie Brothers,
Make Up,
Gabor Szabo,
Tommy Roe,
Electric Prunes,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Martian,
FM Einheit,
Hashim,
The Names,
June of 44,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jacob Miller,
Agitation Free,
The Red Krayola,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Leaves,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
The Monochrome Set,
Main Source,
Chris Corsano,
Pole,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Misunderstood,
Skarface,
Kenny Larkin,
Nas,
the Normal,
Livin' Joy,
The Index,
The Standells,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Popol Vuh,
The Happenings,
Joe Finger,
Silicon Teens,
World's Most,
OOIOO,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.