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 Samoa and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Wings to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Sam Rivers,
The Techniques,
Boz Scaggs,
Lower 48,
The Residents,
Joyce Sims,
The Dead C,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lungfish,
Chris & Cosey,
Schoolly D,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
Shuggie Otis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
a-ha,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joe Smooth,
Janne Schatter,
Con Funk Shun,
Prince Buster,
Sonic Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Buzzcocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
Excepter,
The Cramps,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Traffic Nightmare,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chrome,
Radiopuhelimet,
OOIOO,
Mandrill,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nik Kershaw,
Sound Behaviour,
T. Rex,
Organ,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joe Finger,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Offenders,
The Sonics,
Scion,
The Grass Roots,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
Swell Maps,
Erasure,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.