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 Ivory Coast and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the crunk 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Theoretical Girls,
Kurtis Blow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Khruangbin,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lucky Dragons,
Sixth Finger,
The Sonics,
Ultra Naté,
Livin' Joy,
cv313,
The Dead C,
The Stooges,
Lungfish,
Robert Wyatt,
Kayak,
The Fortunes,
Au Pairs,
Index,
Technova,
The J.B.'s,
These Immortal Souls,
The Monks,
Skaos,
Royal Trux,
Flipper,
Junior Murvin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Aural Exciters,
Eric B and Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Toni Rubio,
the Normal,
Bronski Beat,
John Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Heaven 17,
Intrusion,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wings,
a-ha,
kango's stein massive,
The Saints,
Talk Talk,
The Last Poets,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Man Parrish,
Amon Düül II,
Rapeman,
Nico,
New Order,
The Skatalites,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rotary Connection,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Excepter,
Bad Manners,
Jawbox,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.