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 Botswana and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Joy Division to the funk 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare 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 sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
The Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
John Lydon,
X-102,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül II,
Terry Callier,
Fela Kuti,
Kurtis Blow,
Patti Smith,
Depeche Mode,
The Toasters,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
Massinfluence,
Harmonia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rapeman,
Archie Shepp,
Desert Stars,
Fat Boys,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Qualms,
Public Enemy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Modern Lovers,
Vainqueur,
Camberwell Now,
Kerri Chandler,
Gichy Dan,
Lyres,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Dirtbombs,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Josef K,
Donald Byrd,
Glambeats Corp.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Malaria!,
Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Idris Muhammad,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Pus,
Soulsonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
EPMD,
Inner City,
Quantec,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q and Not U,
Marmalade,
Circle Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
AZ,
Joy Division,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.