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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Eric Copeland to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin 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 clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Crime,
The Martian,
K-Klass,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
Traffic Nightmare,
World's Most,
Spandau Ballet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
June Days,
Groovy Waters,
Sound Behaviour,
The Neon Judgement,
Angry Samoans,
ABBA,
Darondo,
Rakim,
Wasted Youth,
Deadbeat,
Michelle Simonal,
Silicon Teens,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Womack,
Rosa Yemen,
Soul II Soul,
Steve Hackett,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon,
Fluxion,
Sex Pistols,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Sheep,
Chris Corsano,
The Associates,
Barrington Levy,
Pagans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Human League,
Japan,
Animal Collective,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Parrish,
a-ha,
Radiopuhelimet,
U.S. Maple,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Modern Lovers,
Reuben Wilson,
Ten City,
The American Breed,
Cal Tjader,
The Cowsills,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Hood,
Jandek,
John Holt,
Quantec,
Eric Dolphy,
New York Dolls,
Excepter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.