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 Barbados and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Alison Limerick,
Duran Duran,
Depeche Mode,
Sugar Minott,
Curtis Mayfield,
Panda Bear,
The Barracudas,
Terry Callier,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sonics,
ABC,
Cluster,
the Sonics,
Swans,
The Dead C,
Procol Harum,
Massinfluence,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delta 5,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sandy B,
Lucky Dragons,
Jerry's Kids,
Leonard Cohen,
Inner City,
Funkadelic,
Grey Daturas,
the Swans,
Brothers Johnson,
Jacques Brel,
Cybotron,
The Black Dice,
Technova,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
Clear Light,
the Association,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Toasters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Negative Approach,
Smog,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Red Krayola,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang Green,
EPMD,
Don Cherry,
Rosa Yemen,
Accadde A,
Dead Boys,
Alton Ellis,
F. McDonald,
Todd Terry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
John Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.