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 Marshall Islands and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 D'Angelo to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin 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 organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bob Dylan,
Gang of Four,
Erasure,
Pagans,
The Trojans,
June Days,
Sex Pistols,
Tommy Roe,
Animal Collective,
Pole,
Alison Limerick,
Josef K,
Deepchord,
Bluetip,
The Evens,
ABC,
John Cale,
Joe Finger,
Robert Hood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Black Dice,
Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Heaven 17,
Quadrant,
Gang Green,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lyres,
Kerrie Biddell,
Amon Düül II,
Accadde A,
Blake Baxter,
The Star Department,
Arcadia,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pulsallama,
The Doors,
Gregory Isaacs,
cv313,
Lou Reed,
Agent Orange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Saints,
Suicide,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Tremeloes,
Radio Birdman,
Goldenarms,
The Dave Clark Five,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.