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 Dominica and from Bologna.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar 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 B.T. Express to the rock 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Moebius,
the Bar-Kays,
Cal Tjader,
Sun City Girls,
Magazine,
Goldenarms,
Crash Course in Science,
OOIOO,
Jeru the Damaja,
Freddie Wadling,
The Smoke,
Carl Craig,
Sister Nancy,
Index,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alton Ellis,
The Blackbyrds,
Popol Vuh,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hot Snakes,
Althea and Donna,
Funky Four + One,
Scan 7,
Janne Schatter,
Camouflage,
Hasil Adkins,
Intrusion,
The Moody Blues,
Reuben Wilson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kerrie Biddell,
K-Klass,
Agent Orange,
Altered Images,
Mad Mike,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smiths,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Dolphy,
Q65,
Joe Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lucky Dragons,
JFA,
Harmonia,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
Iggy Pop,
The Skatalites,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.