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 Marshall Islands and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Stereo Dub to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a guitar 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 snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Oneida,
Graham Central Station,
Guru Guru,
Tears for Fears,
China Crisis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soft Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Leaves,
the Swans,
Marvin Gaye,
The Index,
Kerri Chandler,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
Supertramp,
Andrew Hill,
The Fortunes,
Agent Orange,
The Golliwogs,
Bang On A Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
David Axelrod,
Glenn Branca,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
Thompson Twins,
Patti Smith,
Au Pairs,
DJ Sneak,
Black Flag,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Chrome,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Max Romeo,
The Wake,
Khruangbin,
Ituana,
Bill Wells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
CMW,
Fatback Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pole,
The Moody Blues,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wings,
Ohio Players,
Jeff Mills,
Cymande,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barbara Tucker,
Gichy Dan,
James White and The Blacks,
Wally Richardson,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.