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 Egypt and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Scrapy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quantec,
Thee Headcoats,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sparks,
Schoolly D,
Chris Corsano,
Roxy Music,
10cc,
Brick,
Graham Central Station,
Severed Heads,
Blossom Toes,
Grey Daturas,
Intrusion,
Roy Ayers,
Black Flag,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Enemy,
Banda Bassotti,
the Germs,
Bill Wells,
Arthur Verocai,
Pagans,
Eurythmics,
Faraquet,
The Skatalites,
Jandek,
Monks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Names,
Flipper,
Amon Düül II,
Royal Trux,
DJ Sneak,
Stiv Bators,
Lower 48,
Robert Görl,
Massinfluence,
The Human League,
Barrington Levy,
Lalann,
Young Marble Giants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Alphaville,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Brand Nubian,
Don Cherry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Bar-Kays,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Lynne,
Moebius,
Procol Harum,
The Moleskins,
Gang Starr,
Eric Copeland,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.