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 Latvia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cure to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet 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 linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Albert Ayler,
In Retrospect,
U.S. Maple,
the Swans,
Black Bananas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oblivians,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Icehouse,
Max Romeo,
Ten City,
Lindisfarne,
Wings,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Isaac Hayes,
Country Teasers,
Absolute Body Control,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DJ Sneak,
Radio Birdman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Henry Cow,
Little Man,
Eve St. Jones,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Skatalites,
The Real Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Piero Umiliani,
Matthew Halsall,
Nico,
Charles Mingus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Steve Hackett,
Outsiders,
the Bar-Kays,
Pierre Henry,
Marmalade,
The Fuzztones,
A Certain Ratio,
Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hardrive,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mummies,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Machine,
ABBA,
Main Source,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kayak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Los Fastidios,
Pussy Galore,
Peter and Kerry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.