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 Thailand and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Eric Copeland to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Order,
Ten City,
Eurythmics,
Malaria!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Drexciya,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grey Daturas,
Public Enemy,
Bill Wells,
Connie Case,
The New Christs,
Unwound,
cv313,
Essential Logic,
Drive Like Jehu,
Junior Murvin,
DJ Sneak,
Goldenarms,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Moody Blues,
The Sound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Normal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Big Daddy Kane,
A Certain Ratio,
the Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
Deakin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-101,
Chris & Cosey,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Moon,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stiv Bators,
These Immortal Souls,
Aloha Tigers,
KRS-One,
Suicide,
Steve Hackett,
Fluxion,
Procol Harum,
Tres Demented,
Sight & Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Symarip,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.