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 Georgia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Names to the dance 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a sitar 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Bauhaus,
Don Cherry,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gun Club,
Eve St. Jones,
Electric Prunes,
Tim Buckley,
Joyce Sims,
The Moody Blues,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scrapy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Normal,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fire Engines,
the Slits,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doors,
The Gap Band,
This Heat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hardrive,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Busters,
Nas,
Ice-T,
Jesper Dahlback,
Byron Stingily,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Hill,
Yellowson,
Newcleus,
Masters at Work,
Icehouse,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bush Tetras,
Von Mondo,
Black Moon,
L. Decosne,
Silicon Teens,
David McCallum,
Sonic Youth,
Television Personalities,
Marine Girls,
Surgeon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Underground Resistance,
World's Most,
Nils Olav,
Urselle,
Yaz,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Erasure,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jawbox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.