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 Spain and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 David Bowie 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 Derrick Morgan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ 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 a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ponytail,
Black Bananas,
Scion,
Severed Heads,
Colin Newman,
The Busters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Cal Tjader,
The Velvet Underground,
Hot Snakes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Aural Exciters,
Donald Byrd,
Magma,
The Residents,
Rakim,
Sister Nancy,
the Bar-Kays,
Electric Prunes,
Gang of Four,
Drive Like Jehu,
Section 25,
Danielle Patucci,
Judy Mowatt,
Theoretical Girls,
K-Klass,
Erykah Badu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kaleidoscope,
Sparks,
Maurizio,
Loose Ends,
Symarip,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Five Americans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cybotron,
Charles Mingus,
10cc,
Heaven 17,
A Certain Ratio,
KRS-One,
H. Thieme,
Skaos,
Bang On A Can,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
Black Pus,
Roxette,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Sherman,
Scrapy,
Sällskapet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.