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 Equatorial Guinea and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Todd Rundgren to the techno 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Sex Pistols,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
Bauhaus,
Kayak,
Nick Fraelich,
Babytalk,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fad Gadget,
The Five Americans,
Liliput,
Bronski Beat,
Sight & Sound,
The Velvet Underground,
The Human League,
The Modern Lovers,
The Misunderstood,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mr. Review,
Cybotron,
The Motions,
Bootsy Collins,
Main Source,
Leonard Cohen,
Monks,
Symarip,
Soft Machine,
Public Enemy,
Spandau Ballet,
Crash Course in Science,
The Neon Judgement,
Marine Girls,
Slave,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Hill,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Busters,
Gang Green,
Lalann,
The Moody Blues,
Henry Cow,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Moon,
Organ,
The Pretty Things,
Inner City,
Infiniti,
Jawbox,
A Certain Ratio,
The Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Aural Exciters,
Junior Murvin,
Angry Samoans,
Outsiders,
Slick Rick,
Sound Behaviour,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.