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 Ethiopia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scion to the crunk 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
The Happenings,
Rufus Thomas,
Organ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Moleskins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deakin,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Toasters,
Kurtis Blow,
New Age Steppers,
Spandau Ballet,
Brand Nubian,
Neu!,
Pantytec,
Wally Richardson,
Los Fastidios,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eve St. Jones,
The Motions,
the Human League,
the Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Interpol,
Public Enemy,
Arthur Verocai,
The Durutti Column,
R.M.O.,
OOIOO,
The Kinks,
The Smiths,
Mandrill,
Wasted Youth,
Tres Demented,
Fat Boys,
B.T. Express,
The Moody Blues,
Goldenarms,
Tim Buckley,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare,
Intrusion,
The Knickerbockers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Maleditus Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Style,
Youth Brigade,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
Eden Ahbez,
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.