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 Nicaragua and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Slick Rick to the electroclash 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe 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 arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Tremeloes,
The United States of America,
Average White Band,
Soulsonic Force,
June of 44,
The Gories,
The Human League,
David Axelrod,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blancmange,
A Certain Ratio,
Harmonia,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Skatalites,
Lyres,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aswad,
The Mummies,
Lou Christie,
Sight & Sound,
Carl Craig,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scan 7,
David Bowie,
Gong,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Bourne,
Pantytec,
Moebius,
Inner City,
Main Source,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Andrew Hill,
Jawbox,
Sugar Minott,
The Neon Judgement,
Circle Jerks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Negative Approach,
Flipper,
Buzzcocks,
Donny Hathaway,
Jacob Miller,
The Trojans,
Whodini,
Vainqueur,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Idris Muhammad,
Lucky Dragons,
Eddi Front,
The Stooges,
Gastr Del Sol,
Erykah Badu,
Bluetip,
The Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.