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 Namibia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Roxette to the jazz 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator 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 organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pagans,
The Tremeloes,
The Cowsills,
Los Fastidios,
One Last Wish,
Bauhaus,
The Music Machine,
June Days,
Dead Boys,
China Crisis,
The Gladiators,
X-102,
Sonny Sharrock,
Trumans Water,
UT,
Cybotron,
Don Cherry,
Public Image Ltd.,
Absolute Body Control,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Anakelly,
Kerrie Biddell,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultravox,
Malaria!,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Little Man,
Television,
Archie Shepp,
The Divine Comedy,
Moby Grape,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roxette,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sun City Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Talk Talk,
Animal Collective,
Organ,
H. Thieme,
Stiv Bators,
Todd Rundgren,
The Monks,
Marvin Gaye,
Urselle,
Isaac Hayes,
Y Pants,
Eddi Front,
Agent Orange,
The Cure,
Ornette Coleman,
Motorama,
The Fortunes,
Marmalade,
Bluetip,
New Order,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.