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 Indonesia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Boogie Down Productions to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum 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 rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
The Birthday Party,
Jerry's Kids,
Royal Trux,
The Dirtbombs,
Organ,
Man Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Junior Murvin,
Gang of Four,
Sight & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultra Naté,
Moss Icon,
Cal Tjader,
The Doors,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Detroit Cobras,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Sherman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Walker Brothers,
Scott Walker,
Whodini,
Jacques Brel,
Don Cherry,
Nirvana,
Model 500,
Black Flag,
Hashim,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
Subhumans,
Desert Stars,
China Crisis,
Can,
Davy DMX,
Nick Fraelich,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Von Mondo,
Nik Kershaw,
Wasted Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Red Krayola,
Surgeon,
Gang Green,
Darondo,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mark Hollis,
Moebius,
Crispy Ambulance,
Average White Band,
Reagan Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Slick Rick,
Eric Dolphy,
Mantronix,
The Five Americans,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.