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 Liechtenstein and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 ABBA to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes 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 guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Faraquet,
Bang On A Can,
Lower 48,
Theoretical Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
Warsaw,
PIL,
The Sound,
Carl Craig,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eurythmics,
The Mummies,
Rosa Yemen,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Starr,
Popol Vuh,
Cameo,
One Last Wish,
Q and Not U,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oneida,
Soul II Soul,
Wolf Eyes,
Flipper,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Soul Sonic Force,
Porter Ricks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grauzone,
Robert Wyatt,
Intrusion,
D'Angelo,
Buzzcocks,
Niagra,
Bush Tetras,
Bluetip,
Public Enemy,
Bob Dylan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skaos,
Camberwell Now,
Ken Boothe,
Minny Pops,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scion,
Boredoms,
Aural Exciters,
Japan,
Dark Day,
The Names,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
Rotary Connection,
Gang of Four,
Susan Cadogan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boz Scaggs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.