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 Mauritania and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Doobie Brothers to the rap 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scion,
Grauzone,
Ornette Coleman,
EPMD,
Pere Ubu,
Reagan Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Television,
Oneida,
The Evens,
Howard Jones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Swell Maps,
the Slits,
D'Angelo,
Joey Negro,
Anthony Braxton,
Fugazi,
Crooked Eye,
Althea and Donna,
Junior Murvin,
Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Motorama,
The Dead C,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Star Department,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Starr,
The Happenings,
cv313,
Icehouse,
Pantaleimon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ronnie Foster,
Marmalade,
Sight & Sound,
KRS-One,
Rhythm & Sound,
Section 25,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Alton Ellis,
Procol Harum,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ponytail,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Davy DMX,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Funky Four + One,
Adolescents,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.