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 Cameroon and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 This Heat to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba 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 chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
JFA,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Zeros,
Minor Threat,
Judy Mowatt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slick Rick,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Harry Pussy,
Brick,
Lakeside,
John Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Can,
B.T. Express,
The Moody Blues,
Lower 48,
Minny Pops,
The Star Department,
Flash Fearless,
48th St. Collective,
Sound Behaviour,
Ice-T,
Matthew Bourne,
The Move,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Symarip,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
Siglo XX,
OOIOO,
Flipper,
Letta Mbulu,
Half Japanese,
China Crisis,
MC5,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
Chrome,
Don Cherry,
Altered Images,
Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare,
Jerry's Kids,
The Selecter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Music Machine,
Sandy B,
Television,
Robert Wyatt,
Kayak,
Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.