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 Niger and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe 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 spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Finger,
Television,
Los Fastidios,
Letta Mbulu,
The Invisible,
Yusef Lateef,
Alphaville,
Fat Boys,
Yellowson,
Porter Ricks,
Peter & Gordon,
Blancmange,
Ponytail,
James White and The Blacks,
T. Rex,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gories,
the Bar-Kays,
Heaven 17,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
Sonic Youth,
Josef K,
The Dead C,
The Names,
June of 44,
The Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
Donald Byrd,
Average White Band,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra,
Scion,
The Smoke,
Anakelly,
The Standells,
The Monochrome Set,
Toni Rubio,
Basic Channel,
Robert Hood,
Terry Callier,
Wolf Eyes,
Supertramp,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Lydon,
Easy Going,
Reagan Youth,
Guru Guru,
China Crisis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Urselle,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cymande,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Osbourne,
DJ Sneak,
DNA,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.