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 Montenegro and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Sunsets and Hearts to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare 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 sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Tremeloes,
Judy Mowatt,
New York Dolls,
the Association,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deepchord,
Jeff Lynne,
Pulsallama,
The Raincoats,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Khruangbin,
Amazonics,
Unrelated Segments,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
The Monochrome Set,
Joe Smooth,
Surgeon,
Amon Düül,
Suburban Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Moebius,
Simply Red,
Youth Brigade,
Flipper,
Robert Hood,
Das Ding,
The New Christs,
Moby Grape,
Hardrive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Real Kids,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yellowson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
UT,
Make Up,
The Smiths,
Kayak,
Bobby Sherman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Absolute Body Control,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radio Birdman,
Hashim,
The Beau Brummels,
Nils Olav,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mission of Burma,
K-Klass,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Vogues,
The Zeros,
Pierre Henry,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.