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 Malawi and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Flamin' Groovies to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ 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 arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Fad Gadget,
One Last Wish,
Donald Byrd,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sun Ra,
Cameo,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlback,
Public Enemy,
Eden Ahbez,
the Slits,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Y Pants,
Franke,
KRS-One,
Scrapy,
Kenny Larkin,
Wings,
The Residents,
The Angels of Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
The J.B.'s,
Brick,
The Busters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jawbox,
Interpol,
Barbara Tucker,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Judy Mowatt,
The Toasters,
Glenn Branca,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heaven 17,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moss Icon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Leonard Cohen,
Nas,
The Slits,
Bronski Beat,
Black Pus,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cowsills,
Royal Trux,
Minutemen,
Arthur Verocai,
Crooked Eye,
Radiopuhelimet,
Thompson Twins,
UT,
Skriet,
Camouflage,
Rekid,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.