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 Kiribati and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Gun Club to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
John Foxx,
Sight & Sound,
Talk Talk,
Byron Stingily,
The Slackers,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül,
E-Dancer,
Neu!,
Jeff Lynne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare,
Sonic Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kenny Larkin,
Altered Images,
Ossler,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fuzztones,
Alison Limerick,
Fatback Band,
Gang of Four,
Crime,
Niagra,
The Index,
The Neon Judgement,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suburban Knight,
Metal Thangz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
H. Thieme,
Marine Girls,
Accadde A,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-101,
Kayak,
The Blackbyrds,
The Pretty Things,
Soul II Soul,
Freddie Wadling,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Barracudas,
Drexciya,
Rosa Yemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
a-ha,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eden Ahbez,
Prince Buster,
The Selecter,
The Fall,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Matthew Halsall,
Fela Kuti,
Wire,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.