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 Slovakia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 8 Eyed Spy to the jazz 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joe Smooth,
The Gladiators,
The Flesh Eaters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Section 25,
Saccharine Trust,
Freddie Wadling,
Pantaleimon,
Livin' Joy,
Patti Smith,
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
The Birthday Party,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Q and Not U,
Stetsasonic,
Johnny Clarke,
New Age Steppers,
Qualms,
Wasted Youth,
Sarah Menescal,
Zapp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fela Kuti,
Spoonie Gee,
Adolescents,
The Young Rascals,
Ultravox,
Country Teasers,
Don Cherry,
Skriet,
Cheater Slicks,
Whodini,
Scratch Acid,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cymande,
Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Fraelich,
Arthur Verocai,
Easy Going,
Junior Murvin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Niagra,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Green,
Joensuu 1685,
Minny Pops,
Lakeside,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.