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 Mozambique and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crash Course in Science to the rock 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Seeds,
Max Romeo,
The J.B.'s,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Flag,
These Immortal Souls,
the Sonics,
Derrick Morgan,
Lower 48,
Wire,
Franke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Skatalites,
Howard Jones,
Marshall Jefferson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alphaville,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rekid,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Absolute Body Control,
the Bar-Kays,
Faust,
Ituana,
The Gap Band,
Harmonia,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Lucky Dragons,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Durutti Column,
Malaria!,
Janne Schatter,
Con Funk Shun,
Intrusion,
Eve St. Jones,
the Human League,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yellowson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Erykah Badu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minutemen,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Popol Vuh,
Curtis Mayfield,
David Bowie,
Black Sheep,
X-102,
Joe Smooth,
David McCallum,
Hasil Adkins,
Ohio Players,
Colin Newman,
FM Einheit,
Radio Birdman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.