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 New Zealand and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lakeside to the punk 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a mellotron 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 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Nico,
Guru Guru,
Desert Stars,
Joe Smooth,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Con Funk Shun,
New York Dolls,
Sun Ra,
OOIOO,
Joe Finger,
The Electric Prunes,
EPMD,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cal Tjader,
Shoche,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fad Gadget,
The Blackbyrds,
The Red Krayola,
Adolescents,
Accadde A,
Fluxion,
Deakin,
Minor Threat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Judy Mowatt,
Pere Ubu,
the Sonics,
Crooked Eye,
The Fire Engines,
Technova,
The Raincoats,
Shuggie Otis,
Carl Craig,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Byrd,
Sam Rivers,
The Cure,
T. Rex,
Anakelly,
The Martian,
The Gories,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Tremeloes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barrington Levy,
Maleditus Sound,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DNA,
Marc Almond,
David Bowie,
Spoonie Gee,
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.