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 Chad and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 John Cale to the rap 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Moebius,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dead Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cybotron,
Suburban Knight,
The Birthday Party,
Animal Collective,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joensuu 1685,
Sex Pistols,
Oblivians,
Lalann,
Bootsy Collins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Pus,
New Age Steppers,
The Trojans,
Nas,
Bobby Sherman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alice Coltrane,
Unrelated Segments,
Ronnie Foster,
OOIOO,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Sheep,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ituana,
Tubeway Army,
Massinfluence,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Jeff Mills,
Peter and Kerry,
Jandek,
Kurtis Blow,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Crime,
Aswad,
EPMD,
Half Japanese,
Simply Red,
John Foxx,
Joey Negro,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pussy Galore,
The Knickerbockers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kas Product,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Womack,
June of 44,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.