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 United Kingdom and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Moleskins to the punk 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Babytalk,
The Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Unwound,
Amon Düül II,
Hashim,
Mars,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
John Foxx,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Moody Blues,
Boredoms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
L. Decosne,
New Order,
Tommy Roe,
Youth Brigade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Surgeon,
Monolake,
Ronan,
Dave Gahan,
the Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
Howard Jones,
Roxy Music,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Count Five,
Mo-Dettes,
The Remains,
Crime,
Joensuu 1685,
Crash Course in Science,
Gichy Dan,
Smog,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Bananas,
Country Teasers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
One Last Wish,
The Golliwogs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sparks,
Brass Construction,
Jimmy McGriff,
Blossom Toes,
The Beau Brummels,
Barrington Levy,
Mission of Burma,
The Walker Brothers,
Althea and Donna,
Agitation Free,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.