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 Tajikistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro 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 Roger Hodgson to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe 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 rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
The Litter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dave Gahan,
Gang of Four,
Cal Tjader,
Bush Tetras,
Gregory Isaacs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
Marshall Jefferson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pierre Henry,
Pole,
Harry Pussy,
Joey Negro,
Malaria!,
Adolescents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Pop Group,
Steve Hackett,
Howard Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
Boredoms,
Robert Görl,
Swell Maps,
Lungfish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
KRS-One,
Kurtis Blow,
Warren Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masters at Work,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Byrd,
The Index,
Gang Green,
Gichy Dan,
Patti Smith,
The Raincoats,
Cameo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Soft Cell,
Hoover,
Flash Fearless,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Residents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gong,
Main Source,
Supertramp,
Y Pants,
Marvin Gaye,
Fela Kuti,
Mandrill,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.