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 Sri Lanka and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Bob Dylan to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Black Dice,
Crime,
The Cure,
Babytalk,
Symarip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quando Quango,
Pantaleimon,
Visage,
The Evens,
Robert Hood,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Flag,
June of 44,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fluxion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Clear Light,
The Searchers,
The Mojo Men,
Stereo Dub,
Rufus Thomas,
Sarah Menescal,
The Slits,
Sonic Youth,
Loose Ends,
Chris Corsano,
Funky Four + One,
Alice Coltrane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Invisible,
The Move,
Skaos,
Mo-Dettes,
the Normal,
New York Dolls,
World's Most,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
Minnie Riperton,
Byron Stingily,
The Barracudas,
Funkadelic,
Chris & Cosey,
Swell Maps,
David McCallum,
The Young Rascals,
Buzzcocks,
The Fortunes,
MC5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dual Sessions,
Wings,
Saccharine Trust,
Radiopuhelimet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
UT,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.