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 Uganda and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Lille and New York.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Shadows of Knight to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and an oboe 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 organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cal Tjader,
Anakelly,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Five Americans,
The New Christs,
Kayak,
kango's stein massive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
La Düsseldorf,
Aaron Thompson,
Mark Hollis,
Rufus Thomas,
John Holt,
Roxette,
10cc,
Spoonie Gee,
Bauhaus,
Main Source,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Erykah Badu,
Sex Pistols,
Scratch Acid,
Brothers Johnson,
The Raincoats,
Second Layer,
Marmalade,
Outsiders,
Alison Limerick,
The Electric Prunes,
Skriet,
Panda Bear,
DJ Sneak,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dirtbombs,
Banda Bassotti,
The Mummies,
Anthony Braxton,
Oblivians,
Shuggie Otis,
Dennis Brown,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
The J.B.'s,
Blake Baxter,
Moss Icon,
Ronnie Foster,
The Star Department,
Tommy Roe,
Maleditus Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Smooth,
Colin Newman,
The Cure,
Eric Dolphy,
Vainqueur,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.