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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 Flamin' Groovies to the funk 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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oneida,
Oblivians,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brass Construction,
Aural Exciters,
David Bowie,
Ossler,
In Retrospect,
The Cramps,
Patti Smith,
Jesper Dahlback,
Whodini,
The Invisible,
Donny Hathaway,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Tremeloes,
Anakelly,
The Black Dice,
Leonard Cohen,
The Litter,
Albert Ayler,
Marine Girls,
Rufus Thomas,
Warren Ellis,
the Sonics,
Quantec,
Robert Görl,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sound Behaviour,
Lower 48,
Severed Heads,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ronan,
Camouflage,
Slave,
Godley & Creme,
Pantytec,
Mad Mike,
DNA,
Idris Muhammad,
The Raincoats,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Count Five,
Grauzone,
These Immortal Souls,
Popol Vuh,
Hashim,
Davy DMX,
H. Thieme,
Spandau Ballet,
Bronski Beat,
Siglo XX,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Green,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.