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 Denmark and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 The Count Five to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord 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 synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Joyce Sims,
Boredoms,
Ten City,
Archie Shepp,
Pylon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sparks,
K-Klass,
X-Ray Spex,
Masters at Work,
Gichy Dan,
Dual Sessions,
Todd Rundgren,
Terry Callier,
The Smoke,
Glenn Branca,
Morten Harket,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Leaves,
Nas,
The Zeros,
The Five Americans,
Fluxion,
48th St. Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scrapy,
Sister Nancy,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gladiators,
Funky Four + One,
Pulsallama,
Eurythmics,
Joy Division,
Fear,
Interpol,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bronski Beat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Intrusion,
the Bar-Kays,
Cal Tjader,
Von Mondo,
Steve Hackett,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mission of Burma,
Junior Murvin,
Deakin,
Prince Buster,
Eric Dolphy,
Franke,
MDC,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lindisfarne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Absolute Body Control,
The Star Department,
The Litter,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.