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 Comoros and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dirtbombs to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Inner City,
Johnny Clarke,
Thee Headcoats,
Sugar Minott,
Neu!,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fugs,
Maleditus Sound,
Josef K,
Flash Fearless,
Barrington Levy,
Ornette Coleman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amon Düül,
Glenn Branca,
The Victims,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
The Raincoats,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Young Rascals,
Technova,
The Detroit Cobras,
Angry Samoans,
Bluetip,
Freddie Wadling,
EPMD,
Pulsallama,
Nick Fraelich,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deadbeat,
Kool Moe Dee,
Moby Grape,
UT,
Flipper,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eve St. Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
The Divine Comedy,
Arcadia,
Bobby Sherman,
Prince Buster,
Eli Mardock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
Barry Ungar,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ponytail,
Patti Smith,
DJ Style,
The Blues Magoos,
Motorama,
Gong,
The Shadows of Knight,
New York Dolls,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.