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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Severed Heads to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar 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 oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
DNA,
Roger Hodgson,
Rosa Yemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Visage,
Sexual Harrassment,
Anthony Braxton,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eurythmics,
The Vogues,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter and Kerry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joe Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Tim Buckley,
New Order,
JFA,
Black Sheep,
Black Moon,
David Axelrod,
The Cramps,
MC5,
Chrome,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultravox,
Crime,
Wire,
Magma,
Aswad,
Eli Mardock,
Junior Murvin,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Clarke,
The Leaves,
Godley & Creme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Flipper,
Joe Finger,
The Barracudas,
Scott Walker,
Absolute Body Control,
Pussy Galore,
Aaron Thompson,
Au Pairs,
Siglo XX,
The Divine Comedy,
The Victims,
Colin Newman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faraquet,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.