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 Maldives and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Drexciya to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro 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 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Steve Hackett,
Lalann,
Newcleus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Swell Maps,
New York Dolls,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Terry Callier,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gap Band,
Franke,
Sister Nancy,
Minny Pops,
Byron Stingily,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Byrd,
Mars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
In Retrospect,
Basic Channel,
The Techniques,
Warsaw,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barrington Levy,
Godley & Creme,
Pylon,
Dennis Brown,
Adolescents,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Supertramp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dead C,
Black Pus,
Lucky Dragons,
Oblivians,
The Victims,
Dual Sessions,
Susan Cadogan,
Inner City,
Alice Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Green,
The Monks,
Flipper,
Bad Manners,
Joe Smooth,
Marc Almond,
Sam Rivers,
The Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Last Poets,
Amon Düül,
Khruangbin,
Vainqueur,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.