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 Afghanistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 New York Dolls to the funk 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator 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 sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 United States of America,
The Evens,
the Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mars,
Byron Stingily,
Eli Mardock,
Monks,
Lou Reed,
Ludus,
Rekid,
Rapeman,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
AZ,
The Names,
Yaz,
Peter and Kerry,
Dave Gahan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Howard Jones,
Warren Ellis,
Guru Guru,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Swell Maps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pantaleimon,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
Brand Nubian,
Eurythmics,
Franke,
F. McDonald,
Los Fastidios,
Flash Fearless,
Moby Grape,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
Clear Light,
Gang Green,
Fela Kuti,
U.S. Maple,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wolf Eyes,
PIL,
Flipper,
Hot Snakes,
Slick Rick,
Saccharine Trust,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Golliwogs,
Television,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.