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 Yemen and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the punk 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb 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 an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Eric Dolphy,
The Slackers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joy Division,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gories,
Bill Wells,
the Sonics,
a-ha,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Order,
Soft Cell,
Idris Muhammad,
John Foxx,
Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Rundgren,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flash Fearless,
Quadrant,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantaleimon,
Ossler,
The Mojo Men,
The Martian,
Roxy Music,
Intrusion,
Matthew Bourne,
T.S.O.L.,
Young Marble Giants,
The J.B.'s,
John Coltrane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quantec,
Mr. Review,
Magazine,
Buzzcocks,
Negative Approach,
Ken Boothe,
Tommy Roe,
Underground Resistance,
Dark Day,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultra Naté,
KRS-One,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nico,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eve St. Jones,
Average White Band,
John Cale,
Fatback Band,
David McCallum,
Cheater Slicks,
Althea and Donna,
The Techniques,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-Ray Spex,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.