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 Ukraine and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fear to the electroclash 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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Davy DMX,
Joyce Sims,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz,
Organ,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Idris Muhammad,
Cameo,
Index,
Bootsy Collins,
B.T. Express,
Sonic Youth,
Second Layer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gerry Rafferty,
Excepter,
Black Pus,
David McCallum,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang Green,
Stiv Bators,
Harry Pussy,
Newcleus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Don Cherry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scientists,
Barrington Levy,
Crooked Eye,
The Stooges,
Fela Kuti,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marshall Jefferson,
Groovy Waters,
The Music Machine,
Magma,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun City Girls,
Fear,
Country Teasers,
The Angels of Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Offenders,
Alton Ellis,
Negative Approach,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Youth Brigade,
Cheater Slicks,
Dark Day,
Pierre Henry,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.