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 Belarus and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin 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 Thee Headcoats to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Aural Exciters,
Jacques Brel,
Rapeman,
Malaria!,
Eli Mardock,
Ossler,
Gang Gang Dance,
Procol Harum,
Outsiders,
The Dave Clark Five,
Charles Mingus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harmonia,
The Zeros,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Man Eating Sloth,
Yellowson,
Circle Jerks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fire Engines,
Q and Not U,
Grandmaster Flash,
Model 500,
Loose Ends,
Intrusion,
Essential Logic,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dead Boys,
Mr. Review,
Juan Atkins,
Sandy B,
B.T. Express,
Unrelated Segments,
Main Source,
Wire,
Wings,
The Moody Blues,
Swans,
Bush Tetras,
Severed Heads,
The Gap Band,
Kas Product,
Japan,
AZ,
DJ Style,
Adolescents,
Howard Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun City Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
Michelle Simonal,
New Age Steppers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Simply Red,
Janne Schatter,
Albert Ayler,
Leonard Cohen,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.