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 Azerbaijan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the funk 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer 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 clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bluetip,
Howard Jones,
kango's stein massive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
Rufus Thomas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Young Rascals,
Black Bananas,
the Normal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dave Gahan,
China Crisis,
Bronski Beat,
MC5,
The Doors,
Nils Olav,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
David McCallum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Joy Division,
Liliput,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Goldenarms,
Wings,
The Fugs,
Eurythmics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
New Order,
Adolescents,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marine Girls,
Henry Cow,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Public Enemy,
Albert Ayler,
Tim Buckley,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Peter & Gordon,
Con Funk Shun,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
ABC,
Dawn Penn,
Scratch Acid,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Accadde A,
The Smiths,
Second Layer,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Anakelly,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.