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 Monaco and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Toasters to the disco 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Scott Walker,
Freddie Wadling,
Deakin,
John Coltrane,
The Modern Lovers,
Maleditus Sound,
Can,
Goldenarms,
F. McDonald,
Tom Boy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moleskins,
Mad Mike,
Faust,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barbara Tucker,
Agitation Free,
Fat Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brass Construction,
Graham Central Station,
Ultravox,
KRS-One,
Black Moon,
Fad Gadget,
Surgeon,
Derrick May,
Roger Hodgson,
The Five Americans,
Ohio Players,
Sugar Minott,
E-Dancer,
Unwound,
The Velvet Underground,
Quantec,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tres Demented,
Brand Nubian,
Sarah Menescal,
Jacques Brel,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tears for Fears,
Marmalade,
Fear,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dual Sessions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Near,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Simply Red,
Mantronix,
A Certain Ratio,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.