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 Bolivia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the rock 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Bob Dylan,
KRS-One,
Animal Collective,
L. Decosne,
Symarip,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Brick,
Idris Muhammad,
Procol Harum,
The Black Dice,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
Ten City,
Accadde A,
Los Fastidios,
Pet Shop Boys,
Visage,
Chrome,
Andrew Hill,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camouflage,
Sound Behaviour,
Tommy Roe,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Green,
Gichy Dan,
Porter Ricks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Echospace,
Agitation Free,
The Tremeloes,
Lindisfarne,
Bronski Beat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tim Buckley,
Chris Corsano,
Hot Snakes,
Graham Central Station,
Archie Shepp,
Gong,
Byron Stingily,
Silicon Teens,
The Velvet Underground,
Rapeman,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
Shoche,
the Sonics,
Black Pus,
Wally Richardson,
The Moody Blues,
Talk Talk,
Gerry Rafferty,
Motorama,
Mr. Review,
Warren Ellis,
The Offenders,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.