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 Syria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Slackers to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron 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 theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Faraquet,
Bad Manners,
Marine Girls,
Ponytail,
Hot Snakes,
The Fortunes,
Can,
Morten Harket,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dave Clark Five,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scientists,
Joe Smooth,
Grey Daturas,
Intrusion,
Siglo XX,
The Standells,
Clear Light,
Rekid,
Niagra,
Minor Threat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barrington Levy,
Y Pants,
Letta Mbulu,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Near,
Model 500,
The Mojo Men,
Mandrill,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Görl,
Young Marble Giants,
Fear,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rapeman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lindisfarne,
Sam Rivers,
Duran Duran,
Heaven 17,
Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eli Mardock,
Piero Umiliani,
The Litter,
Tubeway Army,
Pole,
Lyres,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.