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 St Lucia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro 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 Television 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Khruangbin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Christie,
Schoolly D,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mars,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gun Club,
CMW,
Moss Icon,
Piero Umiliani,
Judy Mowatt,
The Moleskins,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Slits,
Andrew Hill,
Black Bananas,
Franke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Flag,
Ronnie Foster,
Agent Orange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hardrive,
Gang Green,
The Doobie Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
Au Pairs,
Anthony Braxton,
The J.B.'s,
Eric Copeland,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Masters at Work,
Stockholm Monsters,
Iggy Pop,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
Letta Mbulu,
The Motions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soul II Soul,
The Smoke,
Malaria!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
the Germs,
Soft Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Underground Resistance,
The Smiths,
Susan Cadogan,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.