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 Djibouti and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Patti Smith to the grunge 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba 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 rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Pere Ubu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Motions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sparks,
Stiv Bators,
Roxy Music,
The Gladiators,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Sonics,
The Pop Group,
The Index,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dead C,
Stockholm Monsters,
Spoonie Gee,
Lyres,
Joe Finger,
Sun City Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aural Exciters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
Bobby Byrd,
Sun Ra,
Radiohead,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Duran Duran,
The Move,
Soul II Soul,
Y Pants,
Spandau Ballet,
Ohio Players,
Sällskapet,
The Victims,
Mad Mike,
Soft Machine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Royal Trux,
The Moleskins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
kango's stein massive,
Kenny Larkin,
Stetsasonic,
Cluster,
Swell Maps,
Can,
Goldenarms,
Flipper,
Newcleus,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Agitation Free,
New York Dolls,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.