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 Yemen and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Basic Channel to the dance 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joe Finger,
The Slackers,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Index,
Amazonics,
Matthew Bourne,
Malaria!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Fatback Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dirtbombs,
Marvin Gaye,
Colin Newman,
Eden Ahbez,
Liliput,
Sarah Menescal,
The Vogues,
The Cure,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barrington Levy,
Janne Schatter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kurtis Blow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Accadde A,
Adolescents,
The Music Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
KRS-One,
Black Pus,
The Skatalites,
The Fire Engines,
The Names,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rotary Connection,
Duran Duran,
The Move,
JFA,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alice Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
Steve Hackett,
Ossler,
Desert Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Morten Harket,
Yellowson,
Aural Exciters,
The Martian,
Visage,
Matthew Halsall,
The Velvet Underground,
New York Dolls,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.