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 Tuvalu and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Drive Like Jehu to the dance 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba 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 güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deakin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hoover,
Al Stewart,
The Cowsills,
The Music Machine,
Alison Limerick,
Blake Baxter,
Don Cherry,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Faust,
Buzzcocks,
Max Romeo,
Lyres,
Excepter,
Robert Wyatt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Young Marble Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ossler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aural Exciters,
Pantytec,
Nico,
The Kinks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fat Boys,
Fugazi,
Deadbeat,
Smog,
Icehouse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Carl Craig,
Jacques Brel,
the Bar-Kays,
Panda Bear,
Sparks,
Althea and Donna,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Searchers,
T. Rex,
Crispian St. Peters,
Intrusion,
Desert Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Porter Ricks,
Shuggie Otis,
Visage,
Crime,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tomorrow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Pus,
Reuben Wilson,
Marvin Gaye,
Shoche,
MDC,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.