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 Brazil and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nils Olav to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Agent Orange,
Terry Callier,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sex Pistols,
Nirvana,
MDC,
Banda Bassotti,
Connie Case,
Fatback Band,
Harry Pussy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Bananas,
Jerry's Kids,
Eve St. Jones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Trojans,
Scrapy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxette,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Byrd,
Country Teasers,
The American Breed,
Easy Going,
Sandy B,
Basic Channel,
Donny Hathaway,
Smog,
Ponytail,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scratch Acid,
Minny Pops,
Wally Richardson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Los Fastidios,
Nik Kershaw,
Grey Daturas,
the Normal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deepchord,
The Dirtbombs,
The Offenders,
Bad Manners,
Liliput,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
Nils Olav,
Alison Limerick,
OOIOO,
Das Ding,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dennis Brown,
Japan,
Thee Headcoats,
Lucky Dragons,
The Doors,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.