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 Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Reed to the rock 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe 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 sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Ituana,
Echospace,
Erasure,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Bananas,
Rapeman,
F. McDonald,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mad Mike,
Tim Buckley,
Hot Snakes,
Eli Mardock,
ABBA,
The Real Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Pus,
Ohio Players,
Japan,
Lungfish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Michelle Simonal,
Sam Rivers,
Audionom,
Warren Ellis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nico,
Banda Bassotti,
Urselle,
Spandau Ballet,
John Foxx,
Schoolly D,
Dual Sessions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool Moe Dee,
Shoche,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Teasers,
T. Rex,
Supertramp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Delta 5,
8 Eyed Spy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Monolake,
John Lydon,
The Busters,
MDC,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Shuggie Otis,
Minutemen,
Sandy B,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.