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 Laos and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Buckinghams to the jazz 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
In Retrospect,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bootsy Collins,
Drexciya,
Fat Boys,
Stiv Bators,
The Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grey Daturas,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mojo Men,
Goldenarms,
Ituana,
June of 44,
Monolake,
Severed Heads,
ABBA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Wire,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fortunes,
10cc,
JFA,
Boz Scaggs,
Joe Finger,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blake Baxter,
Cluster,
Jacques Brel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Young Rascals,
The Selecter,
Unrelated Segments,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Matthew Bourne,
The Seeds,
Altered Images,
the Association,
Bill Near,
Scratch Acid,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Skriet,
Dual Sessions,
Magma,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Sherman,
Heaven 17,
Nik Kershaw,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
U.S. Maple,
Al Stewart,
Crime,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.