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 Nauru and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kool Moe Dee to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb 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 clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Angels of Light,
Hot Snakes,
Sarah Menescal,
Johnny Clarke,
MC5,
Hasil Adkins,
The Velvet Underground,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Offenders,
Grandmaster Flash,
Matthew Bourne,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxette,
The Fortunes,
The Beau Brummels,
Graham Central Station,
Blake Baxter,
Lou Reed,
John Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang of Four,
Swell Maps,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cameo,
The Blackbyrds,
Lungfish,
Slick Rick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Althea and Donna,
Gichy Dan,
Make Up,
Moby Grape,
Johnny Osbourne,
U.S. Maple,
In Retrospect,
Anthony Braxton,
Neu!,
The Dirtbombs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Style,
Deadbeat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tubeway Army,
Neil Young,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rufus Thomas,
Pussy Galore,
The Doors,
Roy Ayers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scratch Acid,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.