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 Lesotho and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Echospace to the dance 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Deadbeat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sound,
Interpol,
Drive Like Jehu,
Danielle Patucci,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Association,
FM Einheit,
Symarip,
Unwound,
Michelle Simonal,
Ronnie Foster,
Roger Hodgson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Don Cherry,
Hoover,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nils Olav,
Nik Kershaw,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Animal Collective,
Pantytec,
Drexciya,
The Slackers,
Ornette Coleman,
Robert Hood,
Suicide,
Talk Talk,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hasil Adkins,
The Divine Comedy,
Mission of Burma,
Carl Craig,
Yellowson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Liliput,
Glenn Branca,
Rotary Connection,
the Soft Cell,
Television Personalities,
Eurythmics,
Saccharine Trust,
Piero Umiliani,
June Days,
Section 25,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gories,
Urselle,
La Düsseldorf,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Associates,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Sherman,
Ituana,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gap Band,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.