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 Sweden and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet 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 Pole to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Khruangbin,
Robert Görl,
Johnny Osbourne,
Frankie Knuckles,
UT,
Maurizio,
Los Fastidios,
World's Most,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Birthday Party,
Arcadia,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Derrick Morgan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Near,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brand Nubian,
MDC,
Zero Boys,
Royal Trux,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cymande,
Hoover,
Rites of Spring,
Nico,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joensuu 1685,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Terry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lucky Dragons,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pole,
Interpol,
The Monochrome Set,
Sam Rivers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eurythmics,
Reagan Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Cheater Slicks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Slackers,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Litter,
Archie Shepp,
Susan Cadogan,
Pylon,
Barry Ungar,
Sister Nancy,
FM Einheit,
Thompson Twins,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.