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 Mauritius and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a mellotron 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 synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camouflage,
Mad Mike,
Jeff Lynne,
The Tremeloes,
Howard Jones,
Althea and Donna,
The Busters,
Minnie Riperton,
Donny Hathaway,
The Moleskins,
Newcleus,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Names,
Rufus Thomas,
Public Enemy,
Pussy Galore,
The Music Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Schoolly D,
Marvin Gaye,
The Pop Group,
Whodini,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Funkadelic,
Ultimate Spinach,
Malaria!,
Marc Almond,
MC5,
Fluxion,
The Motions,
Eden Ahbez,
T. Rex,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Funky Four + One,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
ABC,
Magazine,
John Holt,
Bob Dylan,
Morten Harket,
Minny Pops,
Scratch Acid,
Babytalk,
Interpol,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Toasters,
The Litter,
Heaven 17,
Severed Heads,
Bad Manners,
The Index,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rhythm & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
X-101,
Terry Callier,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.