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 Kenya and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Banda Bassotti to the disco 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a rhodes 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Rekid,
Erykah Badu,
Sex Pistols,
Organ,
Flipper,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wasted Youth,
Blossom Toes,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Birthday Party,
Monks,
Dave Gahan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marvin Gaye,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mantronix,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bauhaus,
H. Thieme,
Junior Murvin,
Simply Red,
Albert Ayler,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fuzztones,
T. Rex,
Dead Boys,
Al Stewart,
Alton Ellis,
Das Ding,
Man Parrish,
Prince Buster,
John Holt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fluxion,
The Busters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeru the Damaja,
Suicide,
Terry Callier,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sällskapet,
Tim Buckley,
Dorothy Ashby,
Porter Ricks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Babytalk,
Archie Shepp,
Sound Behaviour,
Lakeside,
Black Bananas,
Cheater Slicks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cramps,
Deakin,
Grey Daturas,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.