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 Salvador.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Alice Coltrane to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 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 marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Audionom,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fear,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Hasil Adkins,
Mars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris Corsano,
The Monochrome Set,
Stetsasonic,
Bootsy Collins,
Arab on Radar,
The Happenings,
The Mummies,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Fire Engines,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Royal Trux,
Symarip,
Laurel Aitken,
Tomorrow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eddi Front,
Quantec,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Blues Magoos,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jawbox,
Adolescents,
Davy DMX,
L. Decosne,
David McCallum,
Cybotron,
Piero Umiliani,
Y Pants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Interpol,
Crime,
Das Ding,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
Unrelated Segments,
ABC,
DJ Sneak,
The Blackbyrds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Con Funk Shun,
Basic Channel,
The Slackers,
Banda Bassotti,
The Smiths,
The Busters,
Suicide,
Susan Cadogan,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cramps,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.