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 Qatar and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the dance 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin 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 linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
The Residents,
Fela Kuti,
Minor Threat,
Todd Terry,
DNA,
Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
Animal Collective,
Adolescents,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stetsasonic,
Television Personalities,
Rotary Connection,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Second Layer,
Clear Light,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-101,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
The Monks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lyres,
Marine Girls,
Glenn Branca,
Agitation Free,
Au Pairs,
The Modern Lovers,
Peter & Gordon,
Youth Brigade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Cale,
Charles Mingus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Wake,
Shoche,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DJ Style,
Glambeats Corp.,
Interpol,
The Red Krayola,
Severed Heads,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skaos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Blues Magoos,
Buzzcocks,
a-ha,
Bootsy Collins,
Audionom,
Masters at Work,
John Holt,
Index,
Altered Images,
The Standells,
Reagan Youth,
Bill Wells,
Television,
KRS-One,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.