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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Motorama to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 chamberlin 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Minny Pops,
The Doors,
Dark Day,
The Blackbyrds,
The Wake,
Porter Ricks,
Skarface,
Fear,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
Barbara Tucker,
The Zeros,
Kas Product,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Golliwogs,
Minnie Riperton,
Aural Exciters,
Gang Green,
Andrew Hill,
Roxette,
Index,
Lower 48,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moss Icon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hashim,
Don Cherry,
The Walker Brothers,
Magma,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lalann,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Star Department,
Duran Duran,
the Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Faust,
Swell Maps,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Sherman,
The Black Dice,
Letta Mbulu,
Zapp,
Shoche,
Nirvana,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cure,
Monks,
Minutemen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sister Nancy,
Masters at Work,
Tropical Tobacco,
E-Dancer,
Groovy Waters,
Bootsy Collins,
Jimmy McGriff,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.