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 Dominican Republic and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lucky Dragons to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer 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 harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
In Retrospect,
F. McDonald,
The Pop Group,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pantytec,
the Slits,
Funky Four + One,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scientists,
H. Thieme,
Rod Modell,
Max Romeo,
Sight & Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rites of Spring,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Buzzcocks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Y Pants,
Marcia Griffiths,
U.S. Maple,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Monks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dead Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Barbara Tucker,
Sandy B,
Fear,
Althea and Donna,
Kaleidoscope,
Sixth Finger,
Basic Channel,
Black Flag,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Morten Harket,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Golliwogs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delta 5,
The Misunderstood,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nico,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mandrill,
Peter and Kerry,
Chris Corsano,
Neu!,
Slick Rick,
Ronan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Zapp,
The Fugs,
Anthony Braxton,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.