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 Cambodia and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Derrick May to the rock 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a mellotron and a sitar 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Cecil Taylor,
The Moody Blues,
DJ Style,
Harry Pussy,
Chrome,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fugazi,
The Shadows of Knight,
OOIOO,
Q and Not U,
Todd Rundgren,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Last Poets,
The Angels of Light,
The Happenings,
Byron Stingily,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Associates,
LL Cool J,
Zapp,
Davy DMX,
D'Angelo,
Gong,
Jandek,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
JFA,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liliput,
The Buckinghams,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aloha Tigers,
In Retrospect,
Al Stewart,
Brothers Johnson,
Arthur Verocai,
Main Source,
Kool Moe Dee,
Anakelly,
Easy Going,
Soulsonic Force,
Sugar Minott,
Skaos,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scratch Acid,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blancmange,
Rufus Thomas,
Scion,
Black Bananas,
Toni Rubio,
Section 25,
the Slits,
Franke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Pus,
The Young Rascals,
ABBA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suicide,
The Cure,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.