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 Brazil and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Circle Jerks to the disco 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes 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 rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
CMW,
The Moody Blues,
The Cowsills,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
This Heat,
Godley & Creme,
Boogie Down Productions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Section 25,
Silicon Teens,
Freddie Wadling,
Tropical Tobacco,
Can,
Stetsasonic,
Eli Mardock,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Almond,
Wally Richardson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Visage,
Barrington Levy,
Ponytail,
Arab on Radar,
Derrick Morgan,
Joe Finger,
Royal Trux,
Throbbing Gristle,
U.S. Maple,
Bush Tetras,
Circle Jerks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Das Ding,
Cymande,
Kurtis Blow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Erasure,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deadbeat,
Marine Girls,
Rakim,
Porter Ricks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Smog,
Aloha Tigers,
Ludus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nation of Ulysses,
Echospace,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
New Order,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Remains,
Altered Images,
OOIOO,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.