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 Moldova and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Albert Ayler to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar 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 harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Electric Prunes,
Steve Hackett,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alison Limerick,
New Age Steppers,
X-101,
The Doobie Brothers,
Piero Umiliani,
Arthur Verocai,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Grass Roots,
10cc,
The New Christs,
Ronan,
The Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Q and Not U,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sarah Menescal,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Byrd,
One Last Wish,
The Kinks,
Model 500,
ABC,
The Names,
Radio Birdman,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Zero Boys,
Rites of Spring,
The Gun Club,
Dennis Brown,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Stiv Bators,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Flag,
Pierre Henry,
Man Parrish,
Connie Case,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tubeway Army,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
Con Funk Shun,
The Leaves,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sällskapet,
Newcleus,
Minnie Riperton,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.