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 Cape Verde and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Heaven 17 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare 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 oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Gang Green,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Susan Cadogan,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nils Olav,
Bang On A Can,
Jacques Brel,
Laurel Aitken,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
F. McDonald,
Thompson Twins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Duran Duran,
The Offenders,
Malaria!,
Todd Rundgren,
Aural Exciters,
Organ,
ABC,
The Busters,
Josef K,
UT,
Symarip,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Flag,
John Lydon,
Godley & Creme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tom Boy,
Blake Baxter,
Make Up,
Archie Shepp,
The Gladiators,
Black Moon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Tremeloes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Faraquet,
Pantaleimon,
Ultravox,
Deepchord,
Scion,
the Germs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Judy Mowatt,
The Evens,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Durutti Column,
Fugazi,
Sonic Youth,
Monolake,
LL Cool J,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.