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 Chile and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and an organ 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 oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
The Smiths,
Chris Corsano,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ossler,
Scrapy,
Royal Trux,
EPMD,
Warsaw,
The Toasters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tom Boy,
T.S.O.L.,
Audionom,
Scott Walker,
LL Cool J,
Sam Rivers,
Yusef Lateef,
Wolf Eyes,
Eddi Front,
Donny Hathaway,
Lyres,
Von Mondo,
Toni Rubio,
Connie Case,
Glenn Branca,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rakim,
Morten Harket,
Kas Product,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bob Dylan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
Intrusion,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
Excepter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crooked Eye,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Depeche Mode,
Black Moon,
The Gladiators,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Count Five,
Peter and Kerry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Buzzcocks,
Davy DMX,
Television Personalities,
Monks,
Ken Boothe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Saccharine Trust,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pylon,
Symarip,
Joey Negro,
Swell Maps,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.