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 Romania and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator 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 spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Symarip,
Outsiders,
Fela Kuti,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Litter,
D'Angelo,
The Fire Engines,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dead C,
Smog,
Rakim,
Supertramp,
Livin' Joy,
Pagans,
Davy DMX,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
Godley & Creme,
Mr. Review,
Mo-Dettes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sex Pistols,
Barry Ungar,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cymande,
Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Magazine,
The Divine Comedy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ohio Players,
Mantronix,
Alphaville,
Wire,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brand Nubian,
The Misunderstood,
Moby Grape,
Audionom,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eden Ahbez,
Hoover,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
EPMD,
Amazonics,
Lou Christie,
Deepchord,
Soft Cell,
Procol Harum,
Janne Schatter,
Young Marble Giants,
Easy Going,
The Durutti Column,
Prince Buster,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.