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 Kazakhstan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Grandmaster Flash to the funk 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Khruangbin,
OOIOO,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Boogie Down Productions,
Goldenarms,
Ossler,
Gang Starr,
Rhythm & Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
Ralphi Rosario,
Silicon Teens,
Heaven 17,
Soul Sonic Force,
Glenn Branca,
Joe Finger,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Style,
Duran Duran,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nick Fraelich,
Smog,
The Knickerbockers,
Nirvana,
Godley & Creme,
Young Marble Giants,
Kurtis Blow,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
R.M.O.,
The Slackers,
Archie Shepp,
Kool Moe Dee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Don Cherry,
Prince Buster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultimate Spinach,
Inner City,
Donny Hathaway,
Babytalk,
The Gap Band,
Dead Boys,
Juan Atkins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sister Nancy,
cv313,
Stetsasonic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alphaville,
Altered Images,
UT,
Faust,
The Stooges,
The Fuzztones,
Warren Ellis,
Ituana,
Al Stewart,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.