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 Panama and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar 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 Camberwell Now to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and an arpeggiator 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Marc Almond,
Los Fastidios,
The Monks,
Supertramp,
Lower 48,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Brothers Johnson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fugazi,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
OOIOO,
Interpol,
The Black Dice,
Sun City Girls,
The Last Poets,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
Hashim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Faust,
Quadrant,
The Trojans,
Motorama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minutemen,
Panda Bear,
Gong,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boz Scaggs,
Blake Baxter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Piero Umiliani,
Mission of Burma,
Bill Wells,
Con Funk Shun,
Anthony Braxton,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
Nirvana,
The Cure,
The Velvet Underground,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sugar Minott,
Sandy B,
The Cowsills,
Procol Harum,
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alice Coltrane,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cybotron,
Jacob Miller,
Suburban Knight,
Flash Fearless,
Rod Modell,
Ornette Coleman,
Spoonie Gee,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.