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 Georgia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Supertramp to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron 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 güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Dead Boys,
Gong,
Howard Jones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Von Mondo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amon Düül,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
La Düsseldorf,
Aloha Tigers,
John Cale,
Nils Olav,
Sarah Menescal,
Godley & Creme,
The Toasters,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Neon Judgement,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Golliwogs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soft Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Piero Umiliani,
Circle Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nico,
The Skatalites,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joey Negro,
Scion,
Minutemen,
Man Parrish,
Skarface,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bill Near,
The Moleskins,
The Red Krayola,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tomorrow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gun Club,
Mars,
Black Bananas,
Half Japanese,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eddi Front,
The Trojans,
The Busters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Starr,
These Immortal Souls,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.