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 Iraq and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Television Personalities to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
David Axelrod,
Junior Murvin,
The Move,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Lynne,
T.S.O.L.,
L. Decosne,
Simply Red,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang of Four,
Shoche,
Kas Product,
Joyce Sims,
Pagans,
MC5,
Gang Gang Dance,
Warren Ellis,
James White and The Blacks,
Y Pants,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Q and Not U,
The Last Poets,
Ronan,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Real Kids,
Q65,
Monks,
Ohio Players,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Kinks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June of 44,
Cymande,
Henry Cow,
The Happenings,
Pet Shop Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Bang On A Can,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Music Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masters at Work,
Eve St. Jones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ken Boothe,
DJ Sneak,
Lucky Dragons,
Max Romeo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scion,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.