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 Ghana and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Max Romeo to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Bauhaus,
The Star Department,
Sonic Youth,
Soulsonic Force,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Busters,
The Evens,
Chrome,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Graham Central Station,
Sun City Girls,
Organ,
Clear Light,
Babytalk,
Andrew Hill,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare,
Joe Finger,
Darondo,
Amon Düül II,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fear,
Juan Atkins,
Lucky Dragons,
Skarface,
Minutemen,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Style,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Japan,
Bluetip,
Ultravox,
Roxette,
Harpers Bizarre,
Young Marble Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
Patti Smith,
T. Rex,
Todd Terry,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MDC,
Byron Stingily,
Wings,
The Zeros,
The Leaves,
OOIOO,
10cc,
Shuggie Otis,
Desert Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
Massinfluence,
Fela Kuti,
Eve St. Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Standells,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.