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 Guyana and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Silicon Teens to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tears for Fears,
Moss Icon,
Con Funk Shun,
Marine Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
The Zeros,
T. Rex,
The Blackbyrds,
Average White Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Goldenarms,
Roy Ayers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacques Brel,
Crime,
Ultra Naté,
Bob Dylan,
The Kinks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ken Boothe,
These Immortal Souls,
the Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
Donald Byrd,
Lower 48,
The Alarm Clocks,
Whodini,
Sun Ra,
Tubeway Army,
Theoretical Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Bronski Beat,
Procol Harum,
The Selecter,
ABBA,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Sherman,
Scan 7,
Pagans,
The Standells,
Yusef Lateef,
Eve St. Jones,
Hasil Adkins,
Yaz,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kurtis Blow,
Rod Modell,
Zapp,
Scratch Acid,
a-ha,
Q65,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Henry Cow,
Barry Ungar,
The Trojans,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.